


f*;. .■ >(Ì‘'*A<i'*|A,f*i, itU 









Class "T 2-3 

Book I 3 

Gopight N? 


COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 


^ t 

V 




’i 


THE 


HUNTEE OE THE ALPS. 


TRANSLATED FRON THE ITALIAN OF REV. FATHER ^ ^ 

BALLERINI, S.J. ' f 

I 


J. c. 


ET 

CURTIN. 


» 



Neav York 


D. & J. SADLIER & CO., Cl BARCLAY STREET. 

MONTREAL : 275 NOTRE DAME STREET. 


1S79. 





I P23 


Copyright, 

D. & J. SADLIER & CO., 


1879. 


CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER 

I. Introduction, 



• 

• 


PAGE 

9 

II. Julian, 



• 

• 


13 

III. Tho Steward, 



• 

• 


21 

IV. A Bereaved Mother, . 






31 

V. The Pride of Youth, .. 






38 

VI. The Letter, 






47 

VII. A Painful Delay, 






56 

VIII. Two Friends, 




• 


63 

IX. Confidence, 


t 


t 


68 

X. Don Ecidio, 


• 


• 


73 

XI. Remorse, 


• 




82 

XII. Emotions, . 


• 




88 

XIII. Rumors of War, 


• 




95 

XIV. Five Hundred Francs, 


• 

• 



103 

XV. A Mother’s Heart, 



• 



1C9 

XVI. War, .... 



• 



122 

XVII. The Telegram, . 






131 

XVIII. Fourvières, 






137 

XIX. Off for Turin, . 






150 

XX. Count Cavour, . 






lei 

XXI. Curious Details, 






169 

XXII. Tho Campaign, . 






176 

XXIII. A Garibaldian, . 






188 

XXIV. Disappoinfment, 






195 

XXV. The Presbytery, 






202 

XXVI. Despair, . 






213 

XXVII. Varese, 






213 

XXVIII. The First Fire, . 






228 

XXIX. Augustus, . 






2C7 

XXX. A Consolation, . 



• 



244 

XXXI. Maso’s Home, 



• 



253 

XXXII. A Ravening Wolf, . 



• 



2G3 

XXXIII. Leopold at Turin, 






209 

XXXIV. Lake Maggiore, . 



• 



275 

XXXV. Montebello, 



• 



284 


4 


Contents. 


CUArTEB 

XXXVII. Julian’s Uncle, . 

XXXVIII. The Camellias, . 

XXXIX. Agnes, . . . ' . 

XL. Celsus, 

XLI. Adrian’s Home, 

XLII. A Talk on Politics, . 

XLIII. Magenta, .... 
XLIV. The Battle, * . . . 

XLV. Adolphus, .... 

XL VI. Count James on his Journey, 
XLVI I. Where are They ? 

.XL VIII. Garibaldi, .... 
XLIX. Achilles, • . . . . 

L. Insomnia, .... 

LI. The Young Hero, 

LII. A Political Talk, 

LIII. An Eager Quest, 

LIV. Beatrice, .... 

LV. Bernard, .... 
LVI. The Storm, ... 
LVII. Some Explanations, . 

LVIll. The Incidents of a Journey, 
LIX. A Xew Revelation, . 

LX. Hew Troubles, . ' . 

LXI. The Dinner, 

LXII. An Unexpected Meeting, . 
LXIII. A Question, 

LXIV. Poor Amelia, 

LXV. Not Found, 

LXVI. A Pathetic Scone, 

LXVII. The Troubles of Count James, 
LX VIII. An Unexpected Visit, 

LXIX. Solferino, .... 
LXX. The Return, 

LXXI. Coming Home, . 

LXXII. Homo at Last, . 

LXXIII. Two Weddings, . . 


TAGU 

. 295 
. oOG 
. 314 
. 322 
. 328 
. 337 
. 316 
. 353 
. 3C3 
. 372 
. 377 
. 3S4 
. 390 
. 396 
. 402\ 
. 406 
. 414 
. 419 
. 422 
. 427 
. 432 
. 440 
. 450 
. 450 
. 460 
. 467 
. 476 
. 486 
. 495 
. 501 
. 510 
. 519 
. 524 
. 541 
. 550 
. 557 
. 563 



PREFACE. 


Tre translation, or rather adaptation, of “ The Hunter of 
the Alps,” presented now for the first time in hook form to 
the English reader, needs hut few w'ords to recommend it, 
especially to Catholic patronage. 

In the opening chapter a luminous picture of the era in 
which the thrilling incidents of the story occurred is 
drawn by the original writer. 

I have endeavored to convey it in colors agreeable to 
the American eye, and fain would hope that thos(f colors 
have lost none of their strength and freshness. 

Part, but a very slender part, of the story will be missed 
by those conversant with it in the original, but the adapter 
assumes the responsibility of partial omission on the ground 
of rendering the whole more suited to the idiom and spirit 
of the English language. 

In the very best stories, and even classic novels, of the 
age there arc passages, nay, whole chapters, which might 
be omitted with the sanction of the judicious reader. On 
perusing “The Hunter of the Alps” in the original, I 
thought I should be doing Catholic literature a service 
in endeavoring to adapt it info racy, idiomatic English, 
without losing any of the pith and truth of the story. 

Continental authors have produced nothing to rival 
the works of fiction of prose literature, either in plot or in 
development of character or truth to nature. It is, how- 
ever, universally conceded that the French and Italians 

5 



6 


Preface. 


ore the best raconteurs in the world. In perusing “The 
Hunter of the Alps,” I think the reader v.dll be compelled 
to acknowledge that it possesses all those elements of inte- 
rest that constitute a good story. The very history of the 
period involving its stirring incidents is in itself a ro- 
mance. Before us loom up the figures of rulers, generals, and 
statesmen of colossal intellect and world-wide renown. In 
the picturesque group we find much variety— the sturdy 
and devoted adherent of imperialism, the foe of the Church, 
and enthusiastic advocate of Italian unity ; the high-mind- 
ed otliccr who serves the ruler of the nation with honora- 
ble zeal, and the unjmncipled adventurer whose only ob- 
ject is plunder and emolument, and ^yho in the end but 
attains an ignominious celebrit}’’. Louis Kapoleon is gone 
to his account ; but the great captain who gained for him 
one of the principal battles which, in its ultimate conse- 
quences, changed the European map, and abrogated treaties 
..to which the most sagacious diplomats of the Continent 
had affixed their names, to-day holds his place as the 
sagest, most conscientious, and most respected ruler in 
Europe. Cavour and Victor Emmanuel have disappeared 
from the theatre wdiereon they played so conspicuous 
and wicked a part. Another hero — Pius IX. — higher than 
all in sphere and character, prominently identified with 
the historic events herein narrated, has but recently passed 
away ; his name illumines its pages with the light of that 
virtue and exalted moral courage which he left as a 
legacy and a guide to all coming ages. There are few 
actors in the great political drama, the interludes of which 
are filled by the leading incidents of our story, yet living ; 
but as they pass in dioramic review before the mind’s eye, 
the reader will not fail to experience a fascinating and thrill- 
ing interest in their characters, and will identify himself 
wnth the mighty actions interwoven in their web of life. 
The battles are brilliantly and picturesquely described, with 
sufficient minuteness of detail and criticism to give the 
reader an accurate idea of the relative merits of the com- 
manders. They forcibly remind one of the Napoleonic 


Preface, 


7 


battles, as described in “ Les Miscrables,” or of Napier’s 
inimitable delineations of the Peninsular campaigns. The 
translator has spared no effort to preserve, as far as in 
him lay, the beauty, simplicity, and accuracy that distin- 
guish the original. 

The scenery in connection with the stor)»-, especially the 
beauteous lakes in the northeast of that land so famed in 
history, so venerable for its antiquity, and so glorious in its 
trials and triumphs, will possess an absorbing charm for 
the reader. This charm will be further enhanced by the 
circumstance that there it was the leading incidents in 
connection with the heroes of our story occurred. 

It is none of the purpose of a preface to communicate 
names, save a few that are historic, and to which I have al- 
ready alluded, nor to develop any portion of the plot, lest 
the reader should lose a particle of interest in a story which 
I confidently trust will become a favorite, especially in Ca- 
tholic circles. 

“ The Hunter of the Alps” is throughout deeply Catholic 
in tone, and the moral of the denouement is very impres- 
sive in three of the most important relations of life — the 
political, social, and domestic. Especially in the latter re- 
lation, through the fairy web of story and the gradual 
development of incident converging to a destined issue,' 
does the talc strike the reader’s conscience more forcibly 
than the lecture or the sermon. 

That it will be hailed as a valuable acquisition, on account 
of the acknowledged merit of Father Ballerini, to Catholic 
literature I have no doubt, and I hope it will be warmly 
welcomed by every Catholic reader. What service Catho- 
lic romance has conferred on society I should go back 
half a century to determine. 

At that period, even in polite and virtuous Catholic circles, 
nothing in literature found favor that did not savor of the 
Byronic ultra-sensational type. But from the time when 
Cardinal Wiseman — that giant in the republic of letters — • 
introduced his exquisite “Fabiola” to an admiring world, 
down to the date of the last issue from the graceful and 


8 Preface. 

prolific pen of Mrs. Sacllicr, a gradual improvement is 
manifest. 

Should “The Ilunter of the Alps ” add but a little to the 
present zest for Catholic literature, the adapter will think 
himself amply repaid for his labor. Assuredly he must sub- 
mit to just criticism, yet he shall ever feel certain that the 
cause which he pleads will throw its mantle of protection 
over its humble advocate, and conciliate the benevolence of 
all those who revere and love religion. J. C. C. 





THE HUNTER OF THE ALPS. 


CHAPTER I. 

INTRODUCTION. 

The winter of 1859 will for ever remain an 
epoch in the annals of Piedmont. The ominous 
din of arms and the tramp of hostile legions then 
echoed from the fertile banks of the Tessine to the 
snow-capped summits of Mont Cenis. Never be- 
fore were witnessed such direful omens of war, 
save in the idle and fantastic lucubrations of the 
novelist. The cities and towns that cluster around 
the foot of the Alps were all in favor of the com- 
ing conflict. The warlike murmur passed along 
the Italian shores, was heard within academic 
walls, disturbed the busy merchant on the ex- 
change, rolled from market-j^lace to market-place, 
and resounded in every theatre. One might al- 
most have said that beneath the calm and placid 
sky of Italy, war was caressed in every sunbeam — 
an evident sign that the fatal hour was about to 
strike ; that hour marked so long previously in the 
9 


IO The Himtcr of ihc Alps. 

dark conventicles of a mysterious Areopagus. Like 
a cloud of locusts the secret agents of Piedmont 
traversed Italy from end to end. Night and day, 
with breatliless eagerness and unwearied industry, 
tliey continued to enlist the enthusiastic youth of 
the Peninsula, offering tempting bounties to all 
who were senseless enough to sacrifice their lives 
for the benefit of the Cross of Savoy. 

What scenes were not witnessed in those days of 
deceit, of infatuation and madness ? Newly-mar- 
ried husbands tore themselves violently away from 
the arms of their disconsolate wives ; inhuman fa- 
thers abandoned the cradle of their orphan chil- 
dren ; wealthy patricians forsook all the delights 
and attractions of their sumptuous homes; aged 
artisans deserted their workshops ; students fiung 
down their books and left their class-rooms ; sons, 
betraying the tender vigilance of their parents, de- 
serted the paternal roof. Money it was, to be sure, 
that seduced the majority, but many were urged 
forward by the imperious orders of the secret socie- 
ties to which they had affiliated themselves by the 
most horrible oaths ; others yielded to fear, to the 
raillery of evil companions, and cowardly consi- 
derations of every kind ; while not a few sur- 
rendered to the fallacious promises of military 
distinction and brilliant decorations. Impatience 
of paternal restraint, love of adventure, a dislike 
to the monotony of every-day life, a morbid desire 
of novelty, a longing after unbridled liberty — these 
were the causes of that universal abandonment of 
hearth and home, of that desertion of native land. 


The H Miter of the Alps, ii 

The words “ my country/’ so dear even to vaga- 
bonds, brigands, and. criminals, served only as a 
mask of intrigue, a veil for the passions, a pretext 
for every description of turpitude. At the time I 
speak of, one had only to take his stand beneath 
the banner of Piedmont in order to be consid- 
ered great, virtuous, magnanimous, heroic. But 
what of the floods of tears shed by parents de- 
ceived, the sad complaints of wives betrayed, the 
groans and sighs uttered in the bosom of bereaved 
families? To all such things the ear was shut; 
These jeremiads were drowned in the rapturous 
cheers and warlike songs that celebrated approach- 
ing victory. 

These refugees — these volunteers, if you will — 
who had assembled by sea and land from all the cir- 
cumjacent states, now poured into Lomellina and 
Liguria ; and from thence, after reuniting at 
Alessandria, proceeded by rail to Turin, which pre- 
sented the appearance of a huge slave-market, for- 
cibly reminding one of the descriptions given of 
the ancient bazaars of Smyrna, Tunis, and Al- 
geria. A junta was created, whose duty it was to 
receive, and procure lodgings for the volun- 
teers arriving from every quarter of Italy. These 
young men descended at the station in bands 
numbering from two to four hundred.. On^ their 
hats they wore Italian cockades, and tri-colon d 
ribands streamed from their button-holes. 

Received at tlic station with extraordinary pomp 
and parade, they were conducted by a representa- 
tive of the junta to the C<^nvcnt of St, Thomas, 


12 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


followed by a surging throng of gaping curiosity- 
seekers and boisterous street gamins. Recruiting 
offices were established there, where the names 
of the new arrivals were inscribed, the act of 
enlistment drawn up, the bounties paid, and 
the new recruits forthwith conducted to the 
citadel to undergo medical inspection and be 
incorporated into the various regiments. The law 
required that all volunteers between the ages of 
eighteen and twenty-six should form a contingent 
of the infantry or the cavalry of the line, and bo 
conveyed on the morrow to the various fortresses 
of the realm. Those over twenty-six were to form 
an independent body of troops to be known as the 
‘‘Chasseurs of the Alps,” a picked corps, recently 
raised, and placed under the command of General 
Garibaldi, whom they were to follow in his daring 
enterprises. But though, in the beginning, all 
the men composing this select corps were required 
to be of a certain age, of strong physique, and 
splendid discipline, and though this rule was rigor- 
ously observed at the formation of the first regi- 
ment, which garrisoned Coni, still this rigor was 
relaxed with regard to the two other regiments, 
which completed their muster at Savigliano. 
Children of sixteen and even fourteen years, who 
were strong and somewhat tall for their age, were 
gladly received, enlisted, and immediately set at 
the laborious exercise of military drill. 



CHAPTER II. 

JULIAIT. 

On a beautiful morning in April the sun, al- 
ready high in the heavens, shed down its dazzling 
rays on the white crests of the Alps, and flung a 
luminous splendor over the far-spreading valley of 
Piedmont, causing all nature to rejoice. Sa vig- 
liano, a charming little city situate on that ver- 
dant plain between the two rivers, Maira and 
Grana, which irrigate and fertilize its fruitful 
fields, was bathed in an ocean of sunlight wdiich 
softened its bracing atmosphere and perfumed it 
with the sweetest odors of spring-time. The city 
seemed to have assumed a new existence ; all was 
joy and bustle in the streets. The trumpets of the 
Chasseurs of the Alps, who were returning fj-om 
drill with measured step, had scarce flung their 
last notes on the palpitating air when, suddenly 
halting and breaking ranksy the soldiers scattered 
in all directions, besieging and invading the tav- 
erns and cafes in crowds, as vigorously as they 
would have besieged and carried by assault an 
enemy’s fortress. These new guests, whose num- 
bers daily increased, were lodged in three large 
convents that the commune had appropriated and 
13 


14 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


converted into barracks, after having turned out of 
doors, according to the custom of the time, the're- 
ligious servants of Christ to make room for these 
improvised followers of Mars. 

That day in one of these convents, the one fur- 
thest removed from the centre of the city, a silence 
reigned which it had not known since its new des- 
tination. Its spacious jards, toward which all the 
windows of the cells looked, were almost wholly 
deserted. Only a few soldiers appeared at inter- 
vals, who ran across to a wooden barrack, recently 
erected in a corner, carrying their canteens, and 
came out again in a few moments with a nonde- 
script sort of fare that composed their meagre 
breakfast, which they gulped down while you 
would be turning on your heel. One of them, 
seated on an old rickety bench, with his back lean- 
ing against the wall, nibbled at a piece of black 
bread and a thin slice of fat pork which emitted 
no pleasant odor. He was a youth of delicate 
physique and distinguished mien, whose rather 
pallid cheeks and chin, which just betrayed the 
first approach of dawn, told that he was scarce 
twenty years of age. He was wrapped up in a 
capote of coarse woollen stuff covered with large, 
yellow buttons. A leathern belt was around his 
waist, and as, from time to time, he flung the huge 
folds of his capote aside, he exhibited the elegance 
and elasticity of his slender form. His almost 
equally coarse pantaloons, which were rather the 
worse for the wear, short, and without foot-s raps, 
displayed a pret ty {)air of stockings of exquisite fine- 


The Huriter of the Alps. 15 

ness, which presented a rather singular contrast to 
his ponderous hob-nailed shoes. It was pitiable 
to witness the repugnance with which he ate his 
loathsome meal. One could easily understand the 
unspeakable disgust with which the poor young 
fellow made a virtue of necessity. His counte- 
nance, his manner, his every-» movement plainly 
told that he was never born to wear such an igno- 
ble garb. 

After finishing his melancholy repast, poor Ju- 
lian walked across the courtyard and drank 
from a bucket placed hard by; then, taking off 
his kepi, he adjusted his long chestnut locks, 
returned to his former place, and endeavored to 
sleep. 

All in vain. lie raised his eyes heavenward and 
remained motionless as a statue. His comrades, at 
frequent intervals, passed him by, humming some 
familiar air, or, with broad grin, getting off some 
stupid joke. Julian, meantime, remained im- 
passive, apparently unconscious of anything pass- 
ing around him. Where were his thoughts at that 
moment ? Was he praying or dreaming ? Evi- 
dently his heart w^as burdened with deep and 
melancholy thoughts. His listless eye betokened 
deep languor ; his pallid features, his fitful breath- 
ing, the desolate abandon of his entire person only 
too well testified to the grief which rent his trou- 
bled soul and the gloomy thoughts that preoccu- 
pied his mind. Was it the sting of remorse, mourn- 
ful recollections, or the beginning of a tardy repent- 
ance ? The heart of man is a sealed book, of 


1 6 The Hunter of the Alps, 

which the human features scarce indicate the 
title. 

After remaining a considerable time in this state 
of ecstatic immobility the unhappy youth heaved 
a prolonged sigh, brushed the tears from his eyes, 
and nervously drew from his silken vest a superb 
gold watch, encased with the most costly diamonds, 
and viewed it seemingly with the tenderest af- 
fection. Suddenly one of his companions-in-arms 
approached him, and surprised him in his silent 
contemplation. I have told you a hundred times, 
my dear Julian,” he exclaimed, familiarly placing 
his hands on his comrade’s shoulders, '‘you will 
keep on as usual till you find yourself some fine 
day relieved of your plaything. Was it not enough 
for you to have your purse and ring stolen, to 
say nothing of that diamond pin, worth a whole 
mine ? ” 

" Why, I must know what time it is,” respond- 
ed the other, as be placed the watch in his pocket. 
"But have we fallen into the forest of Bondy, as 
they say in Paris ?” 

" Well, yes. People are very light-fingered 
around here ; if they do not succeed in stealing 
our very skin from us we can offer an ex voto in 
Notre Dame. Don’t you see the hopeful-looking 
crowd that every train brings us ? One might 
almost think that all the criminals in Italy had 
come to Savigliano to rendezvous — jail-birds, gal- 
ley-slaves, convicts, outlaws, thieves, and pick- 
pockets. Last evening I purchased a small piece 
of the most delicious cheese — which, by the way. 


The Hunter of the Alps. 17 

cost me the last fifteen cents I possessed. I 
wrapped it np carefully in my handkerchief and 
hid it under the straw I sleep on. You can readily 
conceive what a pleasant breakfast I anticipated. 
Well, I awoke, groped and dug all around for my 
cheese, hut — it was gone. One of those confound- 
ed screech-owls from the Romagna coolly appropri- 
ated it, leaving me nothing hut a crust of hran 
bread for my morning meal. The ruffian rabbie 
will pluck us bare. If you take a friend’s ad- 
vice, I tell you once more to sell that little Lilli- 
putian time-piece without delay; you will get a 
hundred francs for it, at least. Let us then put our 
stomachs out of danger for another month or so, 
and fling all ennui and care to the winds.” 

Impossible ! I could no more think of part- 
ing with it than with my own heart. But, Maso, 
why not come and sit down here beside me ? ” 

And you — why not come with me for a walk 
around the city ? It is a lovely day, as you see, 
and the whole battalion are wild with fun and 
jollity.” 

I cannot. I have a sore knee, the result of 
drill, and I intend taking a rest till noon. If we 
do not take a little care of ourselves I am greatly 
afraid we will turn up in the hospital. We are 
fatigued to death — the lives literally crushed out of 
us. Just think I to have our rations meted out to 
us by the ounce — a little mouldy bread at that, 
which we would not offer to a dog at home ; to 
wear rags, and sleep in the midst of filth and 
vermin. Such is our lot, we who had been brought 


1 8 The Hunter of the Alps, 

up in the lap of luxury, and who enjoyed at home 
— but it is all over !” 

‘^But look you, Julian, things cannot go on 
much longer as they are now. If Giulay crosses 
the Tessine with his Austrians we will see lively 
times, and whatever pleases God, of course, will 
come to pass. But if this accursed war does not 
break out we will have time to act our role. 
It is no use to rack our brains over it now, at all 
events. The die is cast. We have filled the cup ; 
we now must drink it to the dregs. When we re- 
turn home our parents will be very glad to see us 
once more, even though we be minus a leg or an 
arm. Just think for an instant of the rapturous 
welcome, the loving embraces that we will receive 
from our fathers and mothers, our relatives and 
friends ! They weep in anguish to-day, but then 
they will rejoice. Away, then, with all ennui/ 
Are you still determined not to sell that gew-gaw 
watch and banish starvation for the time being ? ” 

Yes, I am fully resolved not to part with it.” 

Well, what a state affair, surely ! Does it 
chance to be a talisman which will render you in- 
visible to the Croats ? — or, rather, • 

“ A sweet pledge of love 
Of some abandoned fair ” ? 

Maso, you seem not to understand the value 
we sometimes attach to certain souvenirs. I 
should rather die of hunger than hand it over to 
that rapacious Jew.” 

True,” observed Maso ; you are right. Pre- 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


19 


serve your precious souvenir, and may your good 
angel save it from the grasp of the Chasseurs of the 
Alps. Apropos of Jews, did you hear of the sum- 
mary manner in which the colonel dealt with those 
leeches of Ghetto, who followed us all thè way from 
Turin ?” 

No ; but it Was assuredly time for him to 
direct attention to them. They must have made 
at least three or four hundred francs on me alone. 
They have, as you observe, stripped me bare.” 

‘‘And me likewise,” replied Maso. “Samuel, 
that sinister-looking harpy, literally plucked 
me in one week. I had no sooner entered his 
den than he set to work to make an inventory of 
all I had on me from head to foot. He valued 
the whole at fifty-five francs, and forthwith handed 
me a small gold piece as earnest-money. Three 
days subsequently, when I came to deliver up the 
effects in question, he lashed himself into a tre- 
mendous passion, and, under a multitude of pre- 
texts manufactured for the occasion, he beat me 
down eighteen francs, and left me like a cuckoo in 
beeswax. Oh ! if my poor mother were to know that 
her Maso, in his Sunday outfit, was only valued at 
thirty-seven francs. And yet my grecque, brand 
new as it was, with its silk- velvet trimmings, had- 
cost ninety-six ! ” 

“ It is an outrage which the municipality should 
not tolerate for an instant.” 

“ This has been a fat month for the synagogue. 
It is said that that rascally old Samuel has cleared 
fully twenty thousand francs himself. Behold the 


20 


The Hunter of the Alps^ 


roason why these vultures have ever in their mouths 
the cry of ‘ Viva Italia !’ and are so loud in their 
professions of patriotism.” 

^‘You spoke to me a moment ago of Giulay, 
and his passage of the Tessine,” remarked Julian. 

What is the news to-day ? Have you read the 
papers ?” 

I have glanced over i\\Q Fischietto ; hut it is 
impossible to get at the truth in its columns. In 
fact, it does not pretend to tell the truth.” 

‘‘ Well, what has it to say to-day ? ” 

Oh 1 as usual, it is full of pretentious nonsense 
and chaotic rhapsody. It thinks the Germans are 
only imbecile dandies, the bullets of the Croats are 
only sugar-plums, and the lances of the Hlans are 
as harmless as tooth-picks. The heroes of Pied- 
mont have only to show themselves in order to put 
the Austrian armies to ignominious rout.” 

That’s a little strong.” 

These pompous boasts will not count for much 
if the French come not to our assistance.” 

“ But they will be with us, cost what it may.” 

I am not by any means sure of that. If they 
do not take compassion on Piedmont, and the Aus- 
trians fall upon us, the war will not last long.” 

At this point Julian abruptly brought the con- 
versation to an end, and, after casting a hurried 
glance toward the barrack-door, he grew confused 
for an instant, and, leaping from his seat, rushed 
toward the stairway, which he ascended with the 
velocity of an arrow. 



CHAPTER m. 

THE STEWARD. 

Just as Julian disappeared a gentleman, accom- 
panied by an officer bearing the rank of captain, 
entered the yard. Both walked leisurely toward 
the bench whereon the two young volunteers had 
been seated. The officer having beckoned Maso to 
his presence, the young man advanced toward him 
and gave him, on his arrival, the usual military 
salute. 

My brave fellow,” said the captain, '‘you will 
be good enough to conduct this gentleman through 
the various quarters and give him all the informa- 
tion he may desire. The commander-in-chief is 
awaiting me.” 

" All right, captain.” 

The stranger, as he took leave of the officer, 
thanked him for his kindness in the most obsequi- 
ous terms. He was a small, lank, lean man, ex- 
cessively ceremonious and exquisitely dressed. Ma- 
so, pleasant and jovial with his comrades, was 
frank and courteous toward everybody. His hon- 
est, youthful countenance and simple manners im- 
mediately won the confidence of the stranger. One 
might easily observe that the affected politeness of 
21 


22 


The Himter of the Alps. 


tlie latter was but an arti Dee used to conceal the 
embarrassment he felt on finding himself alone in 
a place which lie instinctively knew was not the 
home of the perfect. 

But the ice was already broken, and without 
more ado he informed Maso that he was duly au- 
thorized to make search for a young man who had 
enlisted in the army of Piedmont, producing as he 
spoke his ofiBcial documents. 

After a moment’s silence he continued : 

But, alas ! I fear it is labor lost ; he whom I 
seek is not here. Through the kindness of your 
good captain I have made a careful examination of 
all the rolls, and could not find the name in ques- 
tion. I am told that I had better proceed to the 
camps of Possano, Yercelli, and Alessandria, but 
how know I that I will meet with any better suc- 
cess there ? I am not a wandering Jew, who must 
travel through all the cities, towns, villages, and 
hamlets of this vast kingdom. I can, however, 
conscientiously say that I have left no means un- 
exercised to console that desolate lady. A mother ! 
Yes, my boy, a mother. It is a question of an un- 
consolable mother whose child fied from home to 
enlist in the army, and whose whereabouts we have 
since been unable to discover.” 

Oh I that is not an exceptional case,” replied 
Maso, with a gentle smile ; it is, in truth, the 
identical history of all our volunteers. We are all, 
with scarce an exception, runaways from college, 
from our homes, and the workshops of our em- 
ployers.” 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


23 


Why, you surely are not one of those ? ” an- 
swered the stranger, with a look of surprise. 

‘‘ Yes, indeed, I am,” replied Maso, as a slight 
blush passed oyer his countenance. 

‘‘ And where did you run away from ? ” 

‘^From home.” 

Indeed ! And where did you live ?” 

In a large town in Lunigiana. I am seven- 
teen years of age, and am the eldest of three bro- 
thers. My father is a real-estate owner in easy 
circumstances, with a yearly income of from twen- 
ty to thirty thousand francs ; and I might add 
that I have received a solid and thoroughly Chris- 
tian education.” 

‘‘And here you are now in the army of Garibal- 
di !” 

“Oh I that’s only a boyish freak. I have been 
played upon with so many idle stories and such 
sentimental balderdash that it was impossible for 
me to resist. 1 first fled to Leghorn incognito, 
whence I embarked for Genoa, and from thence 
proceeded to Turin. They first intended to en- 
list me into the Bersaglieri, but I requested to be 
allowed to join the Chasseurs of the Alps, and 
here I am.” 

“And your father and mother — what about 
them ? ” 

“ Well, during the day I manage to think of 
them as seldom as possible, but at night — my nights 
are nights of agony.” 

As he spoke the tears welled to his eyes ; but 
wishing to conceal his emotion, he hastily added : 


24 The Hunter of the Alps, 

Aud who is he, sir, whom you are in search 
of?” 

My young master — for I am the steward of the 
countess dowager, his mother ; he is a wealthy 
lord, an only son, and scarce eighteen years of age. 
He is a magnificent hoy, who has acted precisely 
as you have done, with the exception, perhaps, that 
your parents know where you are.” 

‘‘No, sir, they have not the slightest knowledge 
of my whereabouts, except they have learned it 
from some source unknown to me.” 

You are not speaking seriously ?” 

^‘Most assuredly I am. Since I left home I 
have not given the slightest sign of life. How 
could I do so ? I could not return. My enlist- 
ment in the army precluded the possibility of that. 
And as for writing, I could not summon enough 
courage to put pen to paper. But what about that 
young man of yours ? Will you allow me to ask his 
name and the locality where he resided ? ” 

The steward forthwith informed his interrogator 
of the country and the family to whom his young 
master, whom he named Julian, belonged ; then, 
fixing his eyes on the chasseur, he asked : 

‘‘Have you heard anything of him ?” 

“ Nothing whatsoever. Be assured, sir, that if 
he belonged to my battalion I would have picked 
him out. We would certainly have known one an- 
other, for, when I meet an educated and gentle- 
manly companion, I form the acquaintance imme- 
diately, and am glad of the opportunity of being 
able to do so. If you have glanced over the rolls 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


25 


of the two regiments of Savigliano without finding 
him out, you may come to the conclusion that he 
is not here. You must search Coni, where the 
Mrst I^egiment is in garrison, or, as you observed 
a moment ago, the depots of the line scattered 
throughout the entire kingdom.” 

‘‘That is exactly what I purpose doing, were it 
for naught else than to console a disconsolate 
mother and a sister, the victims of the most heart- 
crushing sorrow. I wish to he able to say, on my 
return, that 1 have been everywhere and employed 
every means in my power to conipass my object. 
Even to-day I have spent the whole morning, in 
company with your captain, in searching the two 
city barracks. Do you think that by time and 
perseverance I may succeed in ferreting him out ?” 

“If Julian is not dead, and if he is really under 
the banner of King Victor Emmanuel, there is no 
doubt but that your efforts will be crowned with 
success. Will you come inside and visit the cor- 
ridors and barrack-rooms ? ” 

“Ko ; I have not long to stay, as I must take 
the mid-day train. Before taking leave, however, 
I would ask you to oblige me by giving me a hur- 
ried outline of your dai’y mode of life, your military 
discipline, the way you joass your time daily, so that 
on my return I can convey the information to the 
unhappy countess.” 

“Most wdilingly, sir. As to the discipline, it is 
scarce necessary to observe that a corps which has 
just been newly organized is not calculated to 
serve as a model, and ours least of all, for a va- 


26 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


riety of reasons. However, I will give you in a 
few words the routine of our daily life. AVe rise at 
four o’clock in the morning; at half-past four 
the roll is called ; at five o’clock, rain or hail, we 
must go to perform our field exercise ; we return 
to the barrack-rooms at nine o’clock and partake of 
a scanty meal, if happily such a thing is there ; at 
half-past eleven we resume our drill.” 

If so, it is time for you to start now.” 

Why, what time is it ? ” 

‘^Eleven o’clock sharp.” 

Eleven already ? AYe shall now have to prac- 
tise the manual of arms until three o’clock in. the 
afternoon. On returning we gulp down a second 
morsel, and at four o’clock we have target practice ; 
at nine o’clock the roll is called again, when we 
retire to our kennels like dogs, where we repose on 
a handful of straw.” 

‘‘And how can you, so delicate, so accustomed 
to all the enjoyments of a comfortable home, bear 
up under such a state of things ? ” 

“ You see I have borne up thus far.” 

“Have you, at least, good rations ?” 

“ Our rations consist of a species of nondescript 
compound that is dignified by the name of por- 
ridge, repulsive in the extreme. To that is added 
a slice of meat on black bread, and water in abun- 
dance.” 

“ And you can stand such terrible treatment ? 
That musket and bayonet which you carry by your 
side must needs weigh heavily on you ?” 

“Yes, but it is an error to sui)pose that each 


27 


The Hunter of the Alps. 

and every one of us is possessed of a musket. In 
the whole corps there are scarce enough to fit out 
a decent armory. The great majority of us are 
still awaiting our muskets, and, according to ap- 
pearances, must continue to wait \ for the Grovern- 
ment, which regards our arms with an evil eye, 
strives to thwart all our designs, and uses . every 
means in its power to detach us from Garibaldi. 
Meantime, those who have no muskets go through 
their exercise with sticks, broom-handles, and so 
forth. Some have old-fashioned flint-locks, while 
a few are supplied with condemned Minnie rifles. 
Oui; officers are perpetually dinning into our ears 
that our most effective weapon is unflinching cou- 
rage. They will, however, soon discover what 
madness it is to encounter an enemy with unequal 
arms.” 

You are, then, determined to march against 
the Austrians ? ” 

“ If war breaks I certainly will. Think you I 
became a Garibaldian to vegetate as I am at pre- 
sent ? ” 

But you may get killed.” 

That I am perfectly aware of ; but, as we must 
die some time, it is better we should die in early 
youth than wither away slowly by old age. Be- 
sides, since I grieved the hearts of my parents by 
my recent escapade, I have grown disgusted with 
the world. I repent of my past offences, and, if a 
German bullet strikes me down, I trust that God 
will show me mercy. All boyish freaks are not 
mortal sins.” 


28 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


During this conversation the stranger kept his 
eyes firmly fixed on the youth’s countenance. lie 
had at first regarded him with a certain feeling of 
suspicion, hut as Maso’s candor and frankness be- 
came manifest he felt his heart so deeply moved 
that, had he been able, he would have immediate- 
ly restored him to the arms of his parents. But 
neither the time nor the place was favorable to re- 
spond to the confidence with which Maso inspired 
him, and to the sentiment of compassion that 
moved his soul. He now saw himself surrounded 
by groups of soldiers returning to their quarters. 
They sang, joked, and uttered wild yells. ^4!'he 
stranger lowered his voice and ceased his questions. 
He no longer heard, save with a sort of timid dis- 
traction, the words of his interlocutor. Certain 
sinister-looking visages around him caused him to 
feel somewhat uneasy. Glancing at these hang- 
dog faces, he moved backwards towards the door 
with a nervousness he vainly tried to conceal. 
Maso, without pretending to notice his uneasiness, 
accompanied him to the door, and with a polite 
bow took leave of him, for the command, Chas- 
seurs, to your ranks !” had just rung out. The 
stranger, cutting short the advice he wished to 
ofller the deluded youth, shook him warmly by the 
hand and parted. He quitted these repelling pre- 
cincts, cursing the seducers of' the Italian youth, 
whose noble instincts and patriotism were exploited 
in order to plunge them into misery and idleness, to 
render them victims to remorse, and to carry sorrow 
and despair into the bosoms of liappy households. 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


29 


It was not without reason that Julian quitted 
the yard with such extreme precipitation. In his 
blind rush, across the staircase and the corridors of 
the monastery, and from room to room and floor 
to floor, one would imagine he was flying for his 
life. All at once he dashed like an arrow into the 
windings of a small stairway leading to a kind of 
garret. Climbing thence toward a small opening- 
in the wall, and looking precisely on the corner of 
the yard where his comrade and the stranger were 
talking, he fixed his eye on them and flushed, 
restless and trembling ; he eagerly watched and 
followed their every movement, their slightest, 
gesture. Not being able to hear their conversa- 
tion, he seemed to be endeavoring to interpret it 
by their looks. His cheeks were crimson and 
livid by turns ; and his whole body was seized with 
a nervous trembling. His knitted brows, his 
entire countenance, and his clenched and quiver- 
ing hands bespoke a heart a prey to the deadliest 
fear. Evidently the poor youth sustained a despe- 
rate struggle against the most violent emotions ; 
fear, desire, suspicion battled in and rent his 
troubled soul. 

The brief conversation between Maso and the 
stranger seemed to him an age. Scarcely had the 
stranger started when Julian dashed at a break- 
neck speed toward his comrade. He met him in 
the barrack-room and seized him by the arm ; 

Tell me,’Mio cried impetuously, ‘‘did Elorence 
speak to you of Natalie » 

At sight of his comrade apparently beside him- 


30 


The Hìinter of the Alps, 


self, Ills hair dishevelled, liis clothes in disorder 
and covered with dust, Maso stood amazed, scarce 
knowing how to answer so unexpected a question. 
Glancing at Julian with a look of surprise, it 
seemed to him as if the latter regretted having said 
too much. Maso, seizing with the celerity of 
thought the action, the attitude, the features, and 
language of Julian, understood all in an instant. 
He cast on his friend a look so maliciously search- 
ing that Julian, taken on the spur of the. moment, 
lost countenance and turned away his head. 

Ah ! you know it, then,” he cried. I under- 
stand all now.” 

‘‘Maso, do not betray me! With you,” he 
added, “ I will have no more mysteries ; but do 
you swear that you will not divulge my secret ?” 

Maso replied in the affirmative with an air of ir- 
resolute complaisance. 

“On the faith of a friend ? ” 

“ Of a true friend ! ” 

. “Well, then — ” 

Here the inexorable sound of the bugle inter- 
rupted the confidential conversation, and the two 
friends were hurried forward by their companions- 
in-arms, who were rushing in crowds through the 
barrack-yard to form ranks and begin the usual 
exercises. 



CHAPTEK IV. 

A BEREAVED MOTHER. 

Ok a lovely morning in April a lady approach- 
ing the autumn of life and a beautiful young 
girl were seated in a parlor looking over the ter- 
race of a small villa situate near the large and 
populous city of Amelia. Both continued their 
work in silence. Keclining in a large arm-chair, 
the elder lady, with pallid countenance and down- 
cast eyes, wrought in a distracted manner at a 
tambour-frame, which after a brief space she placed 
on a work-table. She remained for a time absorbed 
and motionless, and then cast a painful look at a 
crumpled letter lying on her lap. She resumed her 
work, but only to lay it aside again in a few mo- 
ments. 

Opposite her, at a short distance, the young girl 
was seated in a small chair, modestly attired in a 
costume of delicate blue bordered with a ruche 
of ribbon of the same color. She remained bent 
attentively over a piece of embroidery whereon 
she was engaged. Eroai time to time she cast a 
furtive glance at her companion, whose frequent 
sighs and melancholy countenance betokened a dis- 
si 


32 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


consolate heart. By a spontaneous and sympathetic 
impulse the girl suspended her work and cast on 
her companion a look of the tendercst compassion. 

With a half-suppressed sob she lowered her eyes, 
while the tears fell fast on the embroidery-frame 
placed on her knees. Singular contrast ! Without, 
all joy, and beauty, and loveliness ; within, weep- 
ing, woe, and desolation ! Betimes the girl opened 
her pallid lips, as if about to address her mother a 
'word of consolation ; but not daring to break the 
painful silence, she as often repressed her desire. 
Perchance she feared lest a sigh should escape her 
lips instead of a word of condolence. 

All at once the elder lady seized, with convulsive 
grasp, the note whereon all the energies of her soul 
appeared to be concentrated. After gazing at it 
with a strange and half-dazed look she began to 
read it in a voice of mingled bitterness and pain : 

I could not, would not return hate for hate to 
a tyrant mother whom I loved so tenderly, and 
whose irrational aversion to me — ” 

She repeated the above phrase several times, and 
seemed to meditate upon and drink in its every 
word ; but the ottener she repeated it the more she 
yielded to the sorrow that weighed her soul. Her 
breathing grew broken and fitful, and her every 
feature but too plainly betrayed her to be the victim 
of unutterable woe. 

0 mother ! ’’ cried the young girl, as she rushed 
from her seat toward the disconsolate lady, ‘^put 
away that wretched letter. Give it to me at once, 
and I will fiing it into the fire.” 


The Hunter of the Alps. 33 

“No, never !” exclaimed the lady, as she seized 
the letter with quivering grasp ; “ that must go 
down with me to the grave. It is the steel that 
has entered my heart. I will, and declare, that it 
rest for ever with my ashes in the tomb.” 

And as she uttered these words witli an angry 
emphasis, she cast a glance of severe rebuke at her 
daughter, which caused the latter to burst into 
tears. 

*‘1 a tyrannical .^’’continued the lady, as 

she commented on every word. “I to hate .my own 
child — him who was the very life of my soul ? Has 
it ever yet been heard that a mother could hate 
the child of her bosom ? The very beasts of the 
forests will die in defence of their young, and shall 
it be said that I prove more unnatural than they 
— tijat I hated my child, and without the slightest 
reason^ Ah ! Natalie, can you for a moment con- 
ceive how a son could accuse his mother of harbor- 
ing towards him a wicked hatred — his mother, who 
loves him more than the apple of her eye ? Oh ! no ; 
but Julian is a wretched ingrate, a monster, a par- 
ricide ! ” 

“0 mother !‘do not speak so, I pray,” replied 
the girl, as she grasped the hand of her disconso- 
late parent. “Julian was beside himself; he knew 
not what he was doing when he penned that letter. 
He did not wish to give you the slightest offence 
or pain. Besides, it was to me he wrote it. Poor 
boy ! pardon him, I pray, and do not add to his 
present misfortunes by heaping on him your male- 
dictions.” 


34 


The Htinler of the Alps, 


Oh ! God forbid that I should wish him ill/’ the 
lady replied, with a look of unmitigated horror; 
‘^so far from it that I pray for him daily and 
nightly. I am squandering my life for love of him. 
I have pardoned him already; I pardon him now, 
I shall pardon him for all time and eternity. Oh ! 
would that he were here at this moment. I would 
press him to my bosom ; I would teach him with 
what love and tenderness his mother’s heart throbs 
for him. But I cannot help giving free vent at 
times to the anguish which consumes me. Had he 
only fled from home, though by doing so he would 
have disgraced his family and forced-us to quit the 
city, as we actually have done, rather than become 
the laughing-stock of everybody, I would have 
borne it with less anguish of heart. But to run 
away because he believed himself the object of 
his mother’s detestation, and in going to leave 
us that cruel letter ! Ah ! when I think that I 
have a son, in the bloom of his eighteenth year, a 
fugitive concealed heaven knows where, or in what 
condition, whether a soldier or a vagrant — a son 
who thinks of his mother only to see in her an im- 
placable enemy ! And I am that mother— I, who 
have ever loved him with an ineffable love. 0 my 
dear daughter ! if ever you become a mother, you 
will then be unable to conceive how I can survive a 
martyrdom like to this.” 

But Julian loves you still,” urged the young 
girl, as she seated herself beside her mother and 
reclined on the cushion of the divan. Believe 
mo, his freaks are all over now. Have you not 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


35 


read over and over again, after that foolish and 
wretched phrase, the cordial and touching words in 
which he recommends you to my care ? Ah ! Ju- 
lian has a warm and tender heart, and I can confi- 
dently assure you that he will not remain away 
from you long. How know you but that some 
morning you will receive a nice letter of apology, 
or you will see him drop in on us all unexpectedly, 
submissive and repentant ? And then what hap- 
piness and rapturous rejoicing !” 

Do not rely too much on that, my dear, and do 
not fill my soul with vain hopes,” responded the 
lady, striving as she spoke to suppress the gleam 
of joy that lit up her saddened countenance. 
“ Florence has brought us melancholy news. 
While readily admitting that a heart worthy of 
me beats "within Julian’s breast, I cannot but feel 
conscious that all escapades in a youth of his cha- 
racter are fatal. On that point there is no doubt. 
Julian is lost for ever.” 

But, mother, Florence does not despair of find- 
ing him. Last evening, when pressed to snatch a 
brief repose after his weary voyage, he told, it is 
true, that he was unsuccessful in his search, but 
he gave us no news in any wise discouraging. Did 
he not also tell us that multitudes of young men 
left their homes to go, like Julian, to join the army 
of Piedmont, and that shame alone prevents them 
from writing to their parents ? Julian but acted 
like the rest. You know how tenderly I love him; 
and yet I feel convinced that he is living still, that 
he is well, and that ere long he will write home. 


The ’Hunter of the Alps. 


36 

Who knows but that he may come back directly ? 
Meantime, let ns continue our novenas, and Heaven 
will not be deaf to our prayers.’’ 

Amen ! ” responded the mother, as she looked 
tenderly at her daughter, and heaved^ a sigh of re- 
lief, or mayhap of despair. 

You are my good angel,” she continued; ^^but 
for you I were inconsolable. The anguish of heart 
I suffer wrings from me many a complaint I Jiad 
rather remain hidden in the depths of my soul. 
Poor Hatalie ! I afford you a bad example and 
add deeply to your pain. But what can I do ? I 
am so terribly wounded in my maternal affections. 
I a tyrant mother ? And it is Julian, my own be- 
loved son, who dares to call me such 1 After 
prayer alone the only relief left me is to pour into 
your guileless soul the cruel bitterness that con- 
sumes mine. You alone it is who prevents me 
from sinking under the weight of my woe. You 
hope that God will grant us the favor we implore ; 
that he will restore to you your brother, and will 
protect him from all danger ? ” 

‘‘Yes, mamma, I ha\e the fulhst hope of it; 
but to merit this favor you must overcome your 
chagrin. In meditating on the sorrows of Mary 
we will find strength to support our own. When 
weighed down with grief the thought of the sword 
that pierced her immaculate heart alone sustains 
me. And this, as you know, is but the teaching 
you instilled into me when yet a child.” 

“ You are right, my daughter. I confidently hope 
that the Queen of Heaven will take compassion on 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


37 


my weakness. She has already partly heard my 
prayer, since she inspired Don Egidio to go in search 
of Julian. I expect Don Egidio to-day.” 

Then he lias not set out for Piedmont ? ” 

He has relatives whose good ofiSces he can use 
without any inconvenience to himself. Ah ! my 
existence is centred on that hope. I will tell you 
all at another time and place. But why has not 
Florence returned ? He is to bring me news from 
Don Egidio, and I await him with the utmost im- 
patience.” 

“ He cannot delay long; I will go to the gate 
and seeif he is in sight. But give me that letter 
first, pray.” 

And, as she spoke, the young girl with graceful 
dexterity removed the paper from her mother’s lap. 

Oh ! to burn it?” exclaimed the affrighted 
lady. 

‘^Ho, no ; I promise to keep it perfectly safe.” 

And forthwith she left the salon, descended into 
the garden, and, casting a hurried glance around 
her, hastened to, and seated herself within, a little 
laurel bower. This tender child, who in presence 
of her afflicted mother evinced such calmness and 
fortitude, grew all at once feeble and disconsolate. 
She unfolded the ill-advised letter, placed it on her 
knee, and wept bitterly in silence. Oh ! what a 
relief were those tears to her tortured soul. Bather 
than add to her mother’s grief she had for hours 
dissembled her own anguish of heart. This pious 
girl, scarce sixteen years of age, had resolved to 
weep but in secret. 



CnAPTER V. 

THE PRIDE OF YOUTH. 

The Countess Leonie was the widow of Valerian, 
a rich and worthy nobleman. There was a dif- 
ference of two years in the ages of their children, 
Julian and Katalie. When Julian had corno to 
the use of reason, the good count, his father, sent 
him to an excellent college in the suburbs of the 
city. 

The countess was a lady of retined and elegant 
manners, cultured and lofty in her bearing, and 
endowed with a rare sagacity. She was much at- 
tached to Julian, her eldest child, and she was 
very much opposed to his being sent so young away 
from home. The kind-hearted father, who loved 
to distraction his wife and children, insisted for 
once on having his way. It was impossible for 
him, he thought, with his whole time and atten- 
tion centred on his worldly affairs, to devote him- 
self with that care to the education of his son 
which he knew would be necessary, especially when 
he was aware that the years between youth and 
manhood, the most dangerous in our lives, should 
tax his faculties to their utmost. 

38 


39 


The Hunter of the Alps, 

Leonie no longer objected to the firm resolve of 
her husband, and as Julian pursued his studies she 
was delighted beyond measure at the rapid pro- 
gress he made, and she turned her whole attention 
to form the character and direct the taste of her 
little daughter, who never quitted her side. 

The sudden death of the count left her a widÒV. 
Her bereavement was too much for her ; it crushed 
her spirit to the earth. She sank under the blow 
and fell into a prolonged and dangerous illness. 
At length, when pronounced convalescent, she de- 
sired earnestly to see her son ; and this she asked as 
a favor of his uncle, who had been named his guar- 
dian. 

Julian in his thirteenth year was brought home 
from college, where the quick intelligence of the 
boy, along with his close application to study, had 
not merely gained him much applause and many 
honors, but brought him dear little friendships, 
sweet associations not known outside college life, 
and really great progress for one of his age. iso 
wonder, then, that the bright, quick-witted child 
shed tears, and would love to while many an hour 
away talking of his old professors and classmates. 
This lingering attachment of her son to his college 
and its memories, and his sorrowful separation 
from them, could not but be observed by his mo- 
ther and make an impression on her mind. Her 
health w'as now completely restored. She now re- 
gretted having taken him away from college so 
soon ; but it was too late. For if Julian, on the 
one hand, was more than ordinarily favored by na- 


40 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


ture in her gifts, his disposition, on the other, was 
liasty, imperious, self-willed, and naturally of a 
somewhat sombre cast. 

Perhaps never was the strong, firm hand of a fa- 
ther so mueh needed in guiding and modelling the 
character of a child. The mother’s sagacity now 
made her feel more acutely the loss of her beloved 
Valerian. She studied, however, to assuage the 
gravity and firmness of his character towards her 
darling child, that he might feel as little as pos- 
sible the loss of his father. This heroic mother 
ever evinced for her son very great affection ; yet as 
he advanced in years Julian could not hut feel a 
certain staidness in her manner, and a lack of that 
sweet, lively expression of a mother’s love that mo- 
thers, alas ! too often in their weakness show to 
their children. 

The naturally strong and forcible character of 
Leonie made this lino of conduct an easy one, per- 
haps, for her to follow ; for, as we have said, hers 
was a soul cast in the mould of a heroine — power- 
ful, refined, with high culture, and endowed with 
a strength of will, a firmness of character all but 
unknown to those of her rank and sex. She was a 
model Christian mother, full of a pure and religi- 
ous faith, and ever charitable to the poor ; she was 
esteemed and loved by all who came near her. Yet 
withal was there ever in the woman’s strong nature 
a constant battle going on to keep up this apparent 
reserve towards her cherished boy. Did she at all 
I)ersevere with any promise of success, it was not 
•without having to accuse herself of many an act of 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


41 


forbearance that ought not to have been, gifts and 
fond indulgences without number. 

Well salisGed and thankful to God for the 
strength he gave her to act her part, she humbly 
besought her Heavenly Father to bless her endea- 
vors in forming the character of her son, who daily 
advanced in years and grace. 

A learned and worthy priest, the Canon Don 
Egidio, superintended the studies of Julian. He 
was an old friend of the family, and the boy was 
as dear to him as the pupil of his eye ; nor could 
he complain, of lack of diligence in his young 
student, for the youthful count, whose mind was of 
a mathematical turn, studied with great applicai ion. 
He had Just entered on his eighteenth year when 
he completed his philosophical studies. Julian, 
ever respectful and obedient to the countess, his 
mother, had a sweet and tender attachment for his 
sister Hatalie, and while in his bearing there was 
ever a religious conduct that made him set at 
naught any fear of the opinion of ^thers, he was 
dear to every member of the household. In him 
were centred the hopes of his house. He was the 
pride and delight of his mother, the very idol of 
a sister’s love, and many of the noble matrons, 
friends of the countess, saw in him a model for 
their children, and envied her that she was the 
mother of so noble a youth. 

As the Christmas of 1858 drew near, Leonie 
suddenly fell into a pensive mood, and her cold se- 
verity of manner with her son showed itself now 
more than ever. In her bearing towards him he 


42 


The Hìinter of the Alps, 


in vain looked for even a pleasant smile. She was 
ever serious and almost haughty, and if she spoke 
to him it was seldom, and in an incisive tone. 

If there was one thing more than another that 
seemed to delight Julian it was the recreation he 
took in a drive with his pair of fleet chestnut ponies. 
Now some trifling pretext was laid hold of to take 
from him the graceful team in which he so prided 
himself, and at the same time his gay carriage dis- 
appeared from the coach-house. It was customary 
every year when Christmas came round for the 
countess to bestow rich Christmas gifts on her chil- 
dren. But this year, while those for Natalie were 
unusually brilliant, there were none for Julian. 
Nay, more, Florence, from whom he received his 
pocket-money each month, had not given him his 
allowance for December, and now it was the middle 
of January. Such, he said, were his instructions 
from the countess. 

Julian saw but could not account for this mys- 
terious change. He felt it keenly, but never 
uttered a word in complaint. Nor was Natalie slow 
to perceive it. She regretted it, but dared not to 
interfere, save to question her brother about it. 

^‘Julian, how is this ? Mother is annoyed at 
you. How have you offended her ?” 

Julian’s reply was merely a shrug of the shoul- 
ders and no more. Natalie then grew bolder, and 
asked her mother. 

“ What has Julian done that you are so severe 
on him, and for such a length of time ? ” 

The coiinetss would appear not to have caught 


The Hunter of the Alps, 43 

her meaniug, as a tender embrace would smother 
any further enquiries. 

This conduct of the countess towards her son 
was so manifest as to become the subject of varied 
comment, even among the attendants ; nor could 
they attribute it to any reason. 

Did Julian himself really know it ? Was there 
nothing, nothing at all that the quiet monitor 
within could accuse him of ? Some thought there 
was, others said enthusiastically that it was im- 
possible, but the majority of the servants leaned 
in their opinion to the judgment of the mother 
against the son. 

This state of affairs had lasted for about three 
weeks, when the manner of the countess softened 
gently towards her son. The old smile of greeting 
appeared once more on her face, but it was far 
from being a happy smile. 

The ponies were back again in their stable, and 
Florence was once more happy that he could again 
give Master Julian his monthly allowance. 

Julian now hesitated. He knew not how to act. 
Should he pretend to feel and act as if nothing 
had occurred, and at some other time make a re- 
presentation to the countess on her treatment of 
him, or had he not better show by a certain re- 
serve in his bearing the state of his wounded feel- 
ings, and thus respond to the advances of the coun- 
tess ? This was only a slight feeling of pride, yet 
while he struggled with his feelings he fell into a 
culpable error. Twice did his mother invite him 
to accompany her in her walk. On each occasion 


44 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


lie made some excuse, and with a certain constraint 
of manner declined. One evening the countess, to 
compensate for the loss of his Christmas presents, 
handed him a costly diamond scarf-pin. He received 
it with a chilling coolness from her liand, never 
deigned it a glance, and, turning, handed it to 
Natalie, who stood confused and amazed. At 
another time Leonie asked him to take his sister 
out for a drive. He replied languidly that he now 
scarcely ever drove that team he was wont to be 
so fond of. Natalie knew how Jealous the countess 
ever was of the respectful conduct of her children 
towards herself, and was now worried in her en- 
deavors to solace the wounded spirit of her brother. 
Julian — the thoughtless, foolish boy — could easily 
have dispelled for ever and aye this passing cloud 
by a pleasant word or a gracious act of submission. 
But now, by a foolish revenge, a show of pride and 
haughtiness, he simply drew the tempest about his 
head. Did he imagine that the countess looked on 
herself as at fault ? Foolish idea ! 

When a wise mother has in mistake exceeded her 
rightful bounds of maternal authority, she will ac- 
cuse herself to God and never to her child. Be- 
sides, if Julian did know the motives that ac- 
tuated the conduct of his mother, why not seek 
an explanation from his mother, whom he always 
knew to be so open to explanation from him, and 
so ready to overlook a fault ? But if he was igno- 
rant of her motives, why not seek with a respect- 
ful candor to learn them ? Why show in his face a 
culpable obstinacy ? But passion is ever unreason- 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


45 


ing ? The youth now contended with his mother, 
foolishly forgetting that the Countess Leonie is by 
no means the woman who will allow herself to be 
contemned and treated with disrespect by a beard- 
less boy. 

The February of 1859 at the chateau was an un- 
usually dull month. A pall of gloom, of sadness 
hung over it as it passed by. In vain did the noble 
mother strive to move the headstrong youth. At 
one time she would put on a severe and menacing 
air. At another she would stoop to assume an in- 
sinuating manner. By turns she would be haughty 
and overbearing in her tones; by turns plaintive 
and aggrieved, but all was to no piu’pose. 

Julian did not care to understand her. He 
would not look toward her at table, and continued 
taciturn. .On other occasions he even strove to 
avoid a chance meeting with her. He was a stran- 
ger in her boudoir — a stranger in his own home. 
The iron had entered his proud soul. His heated 
imagination clouded and changed his very nature, 
infusing it with the evil spirit of hatred, that 
made him regard -his mother as simjdy an unjust 
persecutor. 

Natalie was ever by his side, striving to reason 
with him, to supplicate, to reproach him. With tears 
in her eyes would she daily make her appeal to him. 
His manner in response would be a sad and silent 
look. He would frequently place his hand fondly 
on her shoulder, and play with her silken tresses, 
or press his cold lips to her forehead, but words 
seldom, if ever, escaped him. She, poor devoted 


4-6 The Hunter of the Alps, 

child, would rush in frenzy to the oratory, throw 
herself on her knees, and, looking with eyes almost 
blinded in tears on the image of the crucified One, 
offer herself to God as a victim for her brother’s 
sins, her mother’s imperfections. 

The only change that came with time was that 
matters grew still more disagreeable. The. wound 
did not heal up. The persistent obstinacy of 
Julian alarmed the countess mother. She had re- 
course to Don Egidio. Counsel was taken ; Julian 
was again approached; but all in vain. No happy 
plan, or gentle stratagem, or sweet concession that 
a mother could make but was devised and had 
recourse to, Leonie went heart and soul to work, 
and was persevering ardently in her plans when an 
unhappy occurrence came for ever to dash to earth 
her every hope. 




CHAPTER VI. 

THE LETTER. 

JuLiAH was desperate with the anguish of a soul 
soured even to death with an absurd and remorse- 
less spite. He presented himself one day at the 
house of his uncle, Count James, who had been his 
instructor, and with a boyish air besought him to 
free him from his mother’s control — to be for ever 
separated from her. This annoyed and angered 
the good uncle, who administered to him a severe 
reprimand, bade him not to be influenced by such 
childish extravagances, and that such visionary non- 
sense was unworthy of him. This movement of 
Julian augured ill, but the firm bearing of his un- 
cle in his refusal to hearken to such a request took 
the sting out of the blow, and common prudence 
would hush up the whole matter ; the countess 
must not be pained in hearing of this action of her 
misguided boy. 

How it fell out, however, we could not ever learn, 
but she was acquainted with every detail of this 
scene between uncle and nephew, even at the time 
when a reconciliation had been arranged by the 
canon. The countess could not control the bitter- 
ness of her spirit, her indignation, and disgust. 

47 


48 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


That afternoon, when she was receiving some 
friends whom she had invited to one of her evening 
parties, her unusual nervousness and paleness of 
her cheek did not escape Julian, though ho neither 
knew nor could he suspect the real cause. His or- 
dinary tranquil and indifferent air, though as- 
sumed, stung his mother to the soul. She could 
not restrain her feelings, and gave yent to them in 
open and bitter speech — so bitter, so cutting that 
it made the blood tingle in his yeins. It burst like 
a thunder-cloud on his devoted head. A sickly 
imllor came to his cheeks, his hands worked con- 
vulsively, as if clasping an unseen something, his 
frame trembled visibly, and, rising, he left the 
chamber with a dark and bitter smile faintly out- 
lined on his half-clenched lips. Natalie, faithful, 
tender-hearted sister, rushed after him and was at 
his side just when he reached the door of his study. 
She came like an angel to soothe, to condole with, 
his troubled spirit. When Julian saw her about 
to enter with him he grew livid with anger, and, 
seizing her by the shoulder, dashed her violently 
from him into the corridor and then slammed to the 
door of his room. It -was the first rude act she 
had ever known from him. 

J uliaii kept close to his study, and for three days 
in succession would not go down to the dining- 
room. The enraged countess, lierself unyielding, 
would break the obstinate spirit in her son. While 
he so persisted in his refusal to appear at meals she 
ordered nothing but bread and water to be served 
to him. His sister interceded in vain ; she could 


The Hiiìitcr of the Alps, 


49 


not move her mother from her fixed resolve. The 
proud spirit of the boy would not stoop to let even 
a remark fall from him as to his prison-fare. Leo- 
nie never bethought her to seek advice as to how 
she could bring about a better feeling in the spirit 
of her child ; she was her own adviser. She mur- 
mured at her hard lot, and sought in the too fre- 
quent use of absinthe a calming and unnatural so- 
lace. Was this the whole duty of a mother ? It 
may be that she was right in her desire to be firm, 
yet up to the present she had not gained her point 
— in restoring peace to her family, in asserting her 
parental authority, in winning back the heart of 
her boy — and oh ! what unavailing anguish had 
been spared her had she only been less severe. 

Julian one evening sent for hTatalie. She came 
promptly, but approached him in a timid and sub- 
dued manner. 

Natalie,’’ said be, with the easiest, calmest tone 
of voice, I was very rude to you the other eve- 
ning. I cannot now tell you how much I regret it. 
I did not know what I was doing. Will you par- 
don me ?” 

Just like you, my noble Julian !” cried the de- 
voted girl, her face lit up with a sudden joy. 
fear that you were also angry with me. ... I 
have not closed my eyes in sleep ever since. . . . 
I pardon you ! I have notliing to pardon you 
for. . . . Why not speak in that way to mother ? 
. . . You will then restore her to happiness. . . . 
Oh ! if you only knew what she suffers on your ac- 
count. . . 


50 


lite Himter of the Alps, 


‘‘Mother/’ he Scaid, interrupting her, while his 
pale face grew even more livid, and he spoke slow- 
ly and with deliberate ostentation — “ mother is a 
tyrant.” A nervous rising in the throat choked 
his further utterance, or he had said more. 

“Mercy !” cried the astonished girl, “you have 
committed a terrible crime in uttering that word.” 

“No, no,” he replied, “my conscience acquits 
me of that. My heart bears no hatred towards her ; 
on the contrary, I love her. . . . Believe me, I 
do. A time will come, and you will be astonished 
that I could love this woman whom you call my 
mother. But, Natalie, do you forgive me ?” 

The poor girl was shocked, was stunned at such 
hard language ; her only reply was a silent nod of 
the head. 

“Well, then,” he continued, “do me this fa- 
vor : let me have one of your watches. I require it 
for a special purpose.” 

“Which of them shall you have?” said Na- 
talie in a broken voice. “ That which my god- 
mother brought me from Paris ? ” 

The young girl hurried at once to her room and 
returned with the costliest watch of the two. From 
it hung an elegant chain of Venetian manufac- 
ture, and richly set in brilliants. She handed it 
to Julian. As he took it his eyes filled with tears, 
and looking tenderly at his sister, “Natalie,” he 
said, ‘ don’t you love me ? ’ 

“How strange you are, Julian,” she replied, to 
talk so ! Why should I not ? ” 

“ Good-by, then,” said Julian. And taking her 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


51 


hand gently in his, he led her to the door of his 
room, and again in a tremulous voice repeated : 
‘^Good-by, Natalie He spoke with difficulty, 

and pressing her hand in his, he stooped and kissed 
her affectionately. 

She felt his warm tears fall on her cheek as he 
thus bade her farewell. In her astonishment and 
emotion his language of repeated farewell was a 
mystery to her. Nor, timid soul I dare she men- 
tion to her mother his brotherly kiss. All she 
said, in a constrained manner, was that Julian 
wept bitterly and asked her to forgive him. 

‘•'Yes!” cried Leonie, with a heart-felt sigh, 
“he asked tliy forgiveness and not his mother’s, 
the ingrate ! ” 

The countess retired then to rest her in a sleep 
that denied rest to her anxious mind. 

The action of Julian, her noble boy, in seeking 
his pardon from his sister, touched a cord in the 
mother’s heart, and now she would, at any sacrifice, 
overcome this foolish and unheard-of obstinacy of 
her son. When morning came she went to his 
room, determined to bring under his rebellious spi- 
rit Julian was not in his apartments. lie had 
already gone out. Leonie’s heart was heavy and 
gave forth many a sigh as she walked through his 
empty rooms and returned to her boudoir. At 
noon Julian had not returned. The clock on the 
old tower struck two, and Julian was still absent. 
I . struck four, and Julian did not yet appear. Pa- 
tiently had his noble mother awaited his return. 
But when it at length rung out the jixtli hour 


52 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


of the afternoon, Leonie was completely overcome 
with suspense and long and anxious waiting. She 
went out, and returned as one wild with distraction, 
speaking all the time in a half-andible whisper to 
herself. Poor N’atalie was ever at her side and 
wept with her. About seven o’clock p.m. Ger- 
vaise, a farmer’s son, desired to see iNTatalie. ^^Who 
is he ? ” exclaimed the countess. Let him come 
in.” 

This morning,” said the peasant, before get- 
ting into the carriage, the young master bade me 
take this letter here towards night fall. This is 
it.” 

‘‘What carriage ? What do you say ? ” said the 
countess in a tremor. 

“ My lady, I don’t know. The young master 
came on foot to our farm about eight o’clock 
this morning, and shortly after that a carriage 
arrived with a stout, heavily-bearded man in it. 
Young master handed me this letter and his 
orders ; then both of them leaped into the light 
wagon and drove away.” 

The countess then dismissed Gervaise. When he 
was gone the poor mother clasped both hands on 
her heart, as if to still its beating. A glassy stare 
came into her eyes as she 'gazed on her daughter. 
She sank down almost in a swoon into a chair 
near her. Kecovering herself, Leonie forced her- 
self to read the following letter ; 

“Leak Sister : Though I writeyou this letter in 
my study, I know that before it reaches you I 
shall be far away on rny journey. The unnatural 


The Hunter of the Alps. 53 

dislike of my mother has at length driven me from 
home, where it made life a burden. 

Uncle James, my old instructor, has no sym- 
pathy for me. He turns a deaf ear to my com- 
plaints — will do nothing for me. Until of late I 
knew not in what direction I should turn my steps. 
But now I am resolved to leave here. I shall join 
the Army of Piedmont, and as a soldier fight for 
the freedom of my country. 

While I live your beautiful little watch shall be 
by me as a token of a sister’s kind and constant 
love. I shall ever wear it near my heart in remem- 
brance of yon. It consoles me to think that'you 
forgive an erring brother, and that you, at least, in 
all the world, will think sometimes of me. Your 
regard for me, my sister, is dearer to me than life ; 
for the constant kindness ' that you alone of all 
God’s creatures have shown me has taught me 
that he is good. My father is no more ; and my 
mother — would to heaven I had never had such a 
mother I 

Natalie, your brother Julian has now none to 
think of him but you. And I can assure you, my 
sister, that I never did aught to lose the esteem of 
any one, and least of all that of my mother. I 
can say I never gave her pain, that I but sought 
to please her and gain her love. Never did I 
knowingly displease her. Her feelings towards 
me have been ungracious in the extreme. I am 
her son, and that entitles me to no claim with her 
but one of unmerited personal dislike. Yet she 
is my mother, and would to God that she had taken 


54 


The Hunter of the Alps* 


back the very life she gave me rather than play 
false with my name and honor ! In her treatment 
of me she has trampled under foot every law of 
nature. Natalie, I repeat it, I have never injured 
any one ; and if I must go far away from you it is 
because I wish not to return in kind the unrea- 
sonable and unnatural hate of a tyrant mother 
whom I yet love. Think not of me with horror. 
To hate any one is not in me. There is little of 
the tiger in my composition. Could I but hope 
for love and pardon I should seek both, even 
from ray mother. But her soul is incapable of 
either towards me. 

However, the future is before us. What it shall 
be God alone knows. To thousands of brave 
hearts war means death. This war may yet num- 
ber me among the slain. If so, dear sister, my 
last and only wish is that my remains, if found, 
be laid in the family vault beside my kind father. 
Your inheritance will be ample. Have me remem- 
bered in many Masses, and for the repose of my 
soul be generous, I pray you, in your alms to 
Christ’s poor. If your lot is to be in the married 
state, I request of you not to think slightingly of 
the attentions of our relatives, the sons of General 
Peter. True, they are our cousins, though in a 
remote degree. They are gifted with every personal 
quality I could desire in a husband for you. 
Though the riches of the world are not theirs, in 
all my acquaintance I know of none outside of that 
family worthy of you. And even among them my 
favor would fall on the third son. Remain always 


The Huìiter of the Alps. 


55 


near your mother ; be never wanting in your atten- 
tion and care of her ; and ask her to think more 
favorably of me, at least when I am gone. Assure 
her that I have forgiven her, and that even to my 
dying day I shall not cease to love her. 

Natalie ! I cannot say how I feel in this separa- 
tion from you. My very heart-strings are rent, my 
spirit is clouded, is crushed. You are good ; never 
forget to think of me in your prayers to Grod. 

‘‘ Adieu ! adieu ! — Your brother, 

JULIAK.” 




CHAPTER VII. 

A PAINFUL DELAY. 

Think you not, dear reader, that Natalie had 
ample reason to shed many a hitter tear while pe- 
rusing this sad letter ? For a whole month she 
sought no other pleasure than reading its melan. 
choly and ill-advised lines whenever she could 
manage to steal a solitary hour. But to what pur- 
pose all this weeping and affliction ? Was not 
Julian far away, and unconscious of the pain and 
anguish he had caused her ? But, ah ! these sighs 
and tears were not lost on the deluded youth. 
They were an expiatory sacrifice, a holocaust of 
charity, offered up not for her happiness and wel- 
fare, but for his. 

She knew how to sanctify the sufferings she en- 
dured. She raised her heart to heaven in resigna- 
tion, while watering the earth with her tears. From 
her earliest infancy her pious mother had taught 
her to lisp the name of another Mother, whose 
heart had been pierced by a sword of sorrow. By 
the grace of divine Providence Natalie cherished 
the tenderest devotion toward Our Blessed Lady, 
and communed with her immaculate heart in daily 
prayer. In the depths of that abyss of light and 
56 


57 


The Hunter of the Alps, 

love lier complainings were stilled, her afflictions 
assuaged, and, while the tears flowed down her 
cheeks, her soul, serene and tranquil like the eagle 
soaring far above the regions of clouds and storms, 
reposed in the calm splendor of faith and the di- 
vine light of prayer. All her tears and afflictions 
were converted into a fragrant incense, which,.pure 
and acceptable, ascended from her guileless heart 
to the throne of G-od, imploring forgiveness for her 
erring brother. 

At length the gate was flung open, and Flor- 
ence drove through. He was still the same lank, 
meagre, ceremonious little individual whose ac- 
quaintance we have already made at the barracks 
of Savigliano. Having returned from a fortnight’s 
search in Piedmont and Liguria, he entered the 
house with heavy heart at finding no traces of 
his youthful master. The unwise love he cherished 
for Julian, and his poignant regret at being unable 
to convey any intelligence calculated to alleviate 
the affliction of his worthy mother, had cast Flor- 
ence into a moody and disagreeable humor. His 
failure preyed sorely on his mind. The even- 
ing before he had given the countess a minute- 
ly-detailed account of his voyage and his researches. 
Although he received from his mistress the most 
unequivocal marks of gratitude, he nevertheless 
observed that she placed very great reliance on cer- 
tain intelligence she had received from Don Egidio, 
and which she was confident would be attended with 
the happiest results. He felt within him a secret 
sense of shame and disappointment, as if what the 


58 TJic Iliniter of tJie Alps, 

servants dubbed his fiasco was the result of his own. 
negligence and unfitness. It must not, then, be a 
source of surprise if Plorence harbored, in his heart 
a slight tinge of jealousy of his rival, Don Egidio ; 
for Florence was human after all. 

The gate had. no sooner begun to grate on its 
hinges than Natalie, quitting her lovely little bower 
and brushing the tears from her eyes, rushed for- 
ward to meet Florence. 

‘‘Take care, my girl,’’ he remarked in a familiar 
tone. 

“Florence,” she eagerly asked, as she approach- 
ed the carriage, “have you any news from Don 
Egidio for mother ?” 

“ Yes ; he will be here to-day.” 

“ And is that all ? ” 

“ That’s all, my dear.” 

“Do you think he will have any news for us ? ” 

“That I certainly don’t know. Since I have gone 
over the same ground as he has without meeting 
with any success, I cannot help thinking that he 
would have done just as well to have stayed at 
home and minded his prayers. But the sun is 
very hot ; you had better go into the house, my 
child.” 

“ One word more, Florence. Mother, you know, 
will have a thousand questions to ask you about 
the w^ar, the soldiers, and a multitude of things, 
and I want you to be on your guard lest you may 
say anything that may add to her pain. Yesterday 
evening, while you were speaking of the Garibal- 
dians, she sulfered a real martyrdom.” 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


59 


Oh ! make your mind easy on that point ; one 
thing is beyond doubt — namely, that Julian- is not 
among those demons. I have seen almost every 
one of them pass, as it were, in review before me. 
Oh ! that he were at Coni or Savigliano. Madame 
would have him at home, safe and sound, ere 
this.’’ 

Above all, do not hint that it will be impossible 
to find him. Be very prudent in what you say. 
You know the pitiable condition she is in. I fear 
every moment that she will fall sick. If you have 
any unwelcome news it is to me you should always 
communicate it, not to her.” 

‘‘Oh ! that’s nothing. The main point is not to 
grieve mother. If she is right all is right. Do you 
understand ? ” 

“ Certainly ; rest assured I’ll do my best.” 

“ Very well, then ; I’ll go and tell mamma that 
you are arrived.” 

Scarce had she informed her mother of the 
canon’s visit than a beam of delight lit up the face 
of the unhappy countess. She now breathed more 
freely, and her whole countenance assumed an air 
of gayety and hope. 

“ That is a happy omen, my dear Natalie,” she 
exclaimed, as she pressed her daughter to her bo- 
som. “Perhaps Julian — ^but, no ; I do not wish 
to cherish any vain hopes.” 

“ Julian ? ” demanded the girl in breathless ex- 
pectancy, as she eagerly scanned her mother’s face. 

“ Nothing ; it is nothing, my child,” answered 
Lconie with nonchalance. , 


6o 


The Huiitcr of the Alps. 


Oh ! no, mamma ; you have got some news/^ 
urged ^Natalie, as she continued to gaze into her 
mother’s face with enquiring look. What is i t ?” 

‘‘Welcome!” exclaimed the countess in a jubi- 
lant voice, as she saw Florence enter the room. 
“Be seated. You deserve a nice present for the 
excellent news you have brought me. I awaited 
you with the utmost impatience. Don Egidio 
comes to-day, does he not ? ” 

“ Yes, madame \ he intends dining with us to- 
day. We must send the carriage for him at two 
o’clock.” 

“ Certainly ; when did you see him last ? ” 

“At nine o’clock this morning.” 

“And he told you — ? ” 

“Nothing, save that he was coming here to- 
day.” 

“And not a word of Julian ?” 

“ Oh ! if it is a question of words, the good 
canon can deluge you with them. But how, 1 ask, 
could he ever hope to discover Julian’s whereabouts, 
since I, who ferreted everywhere, Idgh and low, 
among colonels and generals, in fortresses and bar- 
racks, and turned over the rolls of almost every 
regiment serving under Victor Emmanuel, have 
been unable to discover the faintest trace of him ? 
And Don Egidio .pretends to have almost found 
him, but where he takes precious good care not to 
say.” 

“But,” demanded Leonie with eager anxiety, 
“ has Don Egidio really told you that he had al- 
most succeeded in finding Julian ?” 


The Hìintcr of the Alps. 6i 

But, madame, it is he who says it, and that 
makes a world of difference.” 

Yes, yes, we believe him,” cried Natalie im- 
petuously, as she cast a glance of severe reproach at 
Florence. 

Almost found him,” repeated the countess, as 
she gazed in the face of her daughter with a half- 
jubilant, half -doubtful air. What is your opin- 
ion, Florence ?” she continued, after a moment’s 
pause. 

‘‘ To be candid, madame, I pay so little attention 
to such balderdash that I am not prepared to give 
any opinion, either for or against.” 

‘^Florence!” interrupted Natalie in a slightly 
peevish tone, such language is by no means be- 
coming* You should at least respect Don Egidio.” 

Brusquely changing the subject, he resumed his 
pompous Odyssey, when the countess, a prey to her 
doubts, impatiently exclaimed : 

^‘1 can no longer remain in this cruel state of 
incertitude. Send for Don Egidio immediately ; 
it is now almost noon.” 

As Florence, not a little chagrined, withdrew to 
execute the orders of the countess, Natalie, a prey 
to. the most poignant perplexity, and not knowing 
what to think of all the ambiguous and contra- 
dictory statements she had just heard, affection- 
ately implored her mother to reveal the mystery to 
her. Leonie, happy to divert her attention for a 
moment from her present anxiety, readily an- 
swered : 

^^Last Monday, when 'I received the telegram 


02 


The Himter of the Alps, 


from Florence apprising me of the failure of his 
efforts, the canon was present, and was yisibly 
affected by the sad news, as you know he loved 
your brother dearly. He then conceived the idea of 
trying a more expeditious means. One of his inti- 
mate friends hobnobs with the Liberals ; another is 
a near relative of one of the most active recruiting 
ofiScers in the province, a man devoted heart and 
soul to King Victor Emmanuel. Through the 
good offices of this gentleman Don Egidio has be- 
gun to make enquiries. So skilfully has he gone 
to work that he intimated to me recently that he 
would certainly have something of importance to 
communicate to me to-day. You will understand, 
therefore, how strange that ambiguous message of 
Florence’s sounds in my ears.” 

‘‘ Since Don Egidio announced his intention of 
visiting us, it is evident that J ulian has been found,” 
observed Katalie. 

only wish it were so; but I dare not enter- 
tain the thought; the disappointment would be 
too cruel.” 

Natalie, at this juncture, hastened to the pre- 
sence of Florence, and requested him, with a half- 
reproachful smile, not to return to the presence of 
the countess ; then, returning, she silently seated 
herself by her mother’s side and resumed her 
needlework. 


CHAPTER Yin. 


TWO TRIEiq-DS. 

Ok observing the cordial friendship which ex- 
isted ill the daily relations of Julian and Maso one 
might almost be induced to believe that they had 
been intimate from childhood and educated to- 
gether. Yet they knew one another but three 
weeks, and had never seen each other till their acci- 
dental meeting in the railway-car between G-enoa 
and Turin. But no sooner had they exchanged a 
few polite words amid the motley crowd of volun- 
teers who, like themselves, were hastening to enlist 
under the flag of King Victor Emmanuel, than, by 
one of those mysterious laws of the human heart 
which compel mutual sympathy, and which hap- 
pily are not always deceived, the two youths sen- 
sibly felt themselves attracted to one another. 
Their very looks seemed to say, Would that we 
belonged to the same regiment ! ” 

Both were handsomely dressed, of about the 
same age, and of a striking and prepossessing ap- 
pearance. Maso could discern in every lineament 
of Julian’s countenance an unspeakable sadness 
which excited all his compassion; while Julian 
found Maso so frank, so honest, so simple of manner 
that he at once yielded to him his full sympathy. 

63 


64 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


Botli listened in a kind of distracted way to the 
coarso jests and nonsensical friponnerie of their 
companions, casting at one another occasionally a 
glance of surprise. One would almost think that 
they discovered in each other’s countenance the 
mark of their common treason toward their fami- 
lies, and that, conscious of having committed the 
same offence, they desired to lighten the burden by 
bearing it together. It is, then, no matter of sur- 
prise that in descending at the Turin station they 
warmly shook hands before parting, and enquired 
in turn, ‘^What corps do you propose joining?” 
ISTeither, however, could as yet return a decided 
answer to that question. 

Julian spent four days at Turin, living rather 
economically off the proceeds of a magnificent Eng- 
lish watch he had sold at Genoa in order to defray 
the expenses of the journey. Maso likewise re- 
mained four days in the capital of Piedmont, but 
without once meeting his genial comrade. Julian 
enlisted in the Chasseurs of the Alps, and Maso, as 
it happened, did the same. Julian took the train 
for Savigliano, and hardly had he been settled in 
his quarters when he was agreeably surprised by 
Maso stealing up and taking his seat beside him. 
The merest accident had brought them together 
again. 

In a brief space they were bosom friends. Both 
readily perceived the abyss wherein they had falien ; 
they promised to render one another mutual assist- 
ance, and their friendship grew strong through the 
confidence they placed in onch other, and the reve- 


The Hunter of the Alps, 65 

lation of a first secret wliich was the outcome of 
remorse and repentance. 

The abandoned throng of youthful debauchees, 
tramps, and criminals by whom they were sur- 
rounded inspired them with unspeakable disgust, 
perpetually augmented by the impious and obscene 
discourses they heard, tlie frivolous language, the 
horrible blasphemies, the dissolute laughter and 
ribald conduct of these heroes of independence. 
Scarce one among them knew even the elementary 
rules of polite society. The reserved language, re- 
fined manners, and graceful appearance of the two 
comrades soon won them the title of aristocrats, 
and subjected them to the clumsy ridicule of their 
companions. They were accordingly obliged to 
live apart from their comrades and associate to- 
gether exclusively. Among the soldiers were many 
young men of distinguished families and superior 
education, but they differed vastly from Julian and 
Maso in morals, manners, and principle. 

The sufferings of hunger were now added to their 
other cares. The filthy rations of the common sol- 
dier filled with ineffable disgust these two youths, 
accustomed as they were from earliest infancy to 
all the conveniences and felicities of life. To pro- 
cure proper food money was needed, and that they 
had not got. We have already seen how they were 
relieved of what they possessed. They were there- 
fore compelled to content themselves with the 
muddy slop of the barrack — bran-bread and water. 
Julian could not look at the huge mess-dish save 
with the utmost repugnance, and his .^tomuch re- 


66 


The Hu7itcr of the Alps. 


volted at the very thought of the soup. Maso com- 
miserated him, and, being of more robust physique, 
shared with him his rations of meat, and bravely 
swallowed the soup his comrade would not dare to 
taste. 

Amid this penury Maso, who was of a gay and 
facetious disposition, and somewhat inclined to 
levity, generally took things as they came and 
endeavored to dissipate all ill-humor. Julian, on 
the other hand, though always amiable and refined, 
always wore a serious air, spoke little, and often 
revealed the dark cloud of sadness that passed over 
his countenance. Maso, who at first did not dare 
to enquire the real cause of his friend’s hidden 
trouble, conducted himself toward him with the 
utmost affection, and was never happier than when, 
from time to time, he would succeed in forcing a 
smile from his lips. 

Possessing unbounded confidence in Julian, he 
had already related to him every detail relative to 
his home, family, and studies. 

Julian, on the contrary, confining himself to 
generalities, maintained the greatest reserve on all 
his domestic affairs. Two days before Florence 
arrived at the barracks, Maso chanced to surprise 
Julian, who was seated on a stone in a corner of 
the yard, tracing with his bayonet in the dust the 
following lines : 

Di cruda madre all’ odio fatto segno, 

Il mio fallir non è di sensa indegno.* 

* I was the victim of a cruel mother’s fate ; my offence is 
noe inexcusable. 


The Hunter of the Alps, . 67 

Julian, on observing that Maso was peeping over 
his shoulder, blushed deeply, and with the celerity 
of thought effaced the lines on the sand. Not 
wishing to wound the susceptibilities of his friend, 
Maso did not intend to have read or even perceived 
them. Towards evening they both went for a 
walk on the drill-grounds ; and in the course of 
the conversation Maso revealed his intention of re- 
conciling himself to his family. His father, he 
was convinced, would pardon his freak; it was 
only a question of dropping a line to his mother. 
He asked Julian if it were possible that a mother 
would refuse her interposition in a similar circum- 
stance, and turn a deaf ear to the request of an 
erring but repentant child. 

“It depends entirely,” answered Julian, “what 
kind of a mother you have.” 

“My mother, replied Maso, “is about like all 
other mothers.” 

“ I know one who is not like all others,” rejoiced 
Julian impetuously. 

“ Who is she ? ” 

“ Guess,” replied Julian dryly ; and he forthwith 
changed the subject of conversation. 




CHAPTER IX. 

CONFIDEIJCE. 

As the reader may remember, the sound of the 
bugle brought the confidential conversation of 
Julian on the subject of Florence and Xatalie to 
an abrupt conclusion. Marching in rank, they 
could, if necessary, continue the conversation in a 
subdued tone; but Julian, with haggard eye and 
clouded brow, observed an unbroken silence. 
Ilis comrade sought earnestly to induce him to 
continue the conversation, but without success. 

Nevertheless, the words that had escaped his 
lips before falling into rank opened up a new 
horizon for Maso. It was his settled conviction 
that an intrigue existed wherein Julian played the 
chief part. The violent agitation of his friend, 
and the impetuous manner in which he cross-ex- 
amined him anent Natalie, to whom the stranger 
did not even refer, convinced him also that she was 
no stranger in the drama. But what relation had 
this Florence to Julian and Natalie ? He only 
spoke of a certain youth, the son of a widowed 
countess, who had abandoned his home — a youth 
who had a sister; but who that? youth was he 
knew not. The city of his birth was not that 
whence Julian bad pretended to have come. How, 
68 


The Hunter of the Alps. 69 

then, could the latter have supposed that Florence 
would have spoken of Natalie ? Maso, in short, 
was under the inpression that Natalie was no other 
than Julian’s betrothed. He remembered the 
two mysterious verses Julian had traced on the 
sand under the initials of her lovely name. He 
had got a clue, and all that was now required was 
to follow it up. 

Dinner-hour arrived. Maso, as was his wont, 
approached Julian with his porringer, to make the 
usual exchange of rations. The moment for re- 
suming the conversation was well chosen. 

My dear Julian,” he began, ‘‘you look at the 
dark side of things. Perhaps you believe that I 
would be capable of betraying your secrets. If so 
you are mistaken ; we are friends, and understand 
each other perfectly. I do not wish to pry into your 
private affairs by any means. You can interrogate 
me, and I wi’l answer. Will you be satisfied with 
that ? ” 

“ Maso,” replied Julian, “ I am very far from 
deeming you capable of betraying my secrets ; but 
how could I speak to you in the presence of the 
company, where we were, at any moment, liable to 
be overheard ? I will chat with you now all you 
please.” 

“All right; but ask your questions. I don’t 
wish to know anything you do not desire to com- 
municate ; but I would have you understand that 
Florence told me a great deal.” 

“ Florence ? ” responded Julian with evident anx- 
iety. 


70 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


Yes, sir,” replied Maso serenely ; ‘‘ lie is a per- 
fect gentleman, too.” 

Where is he now ?” 

‘‘ Would you like to see im ? ” 

‘^No, I don’t care about seeing him. Is he gone?” 

I think so.” 

‘^Are you certain?” urged Julian, with eager 
earnestness. 

‘^No; but if he has not changed his mind he 
must be away by this time.” 

Did he tell you his name ? ” 
saw it in the documents he showed me.” 

Ah I he showed you his documents, then ?” 

^^Yes, through mere courtesy.” 

‘^But what did he want ?” 

Oh ! a multitude of things. If you only just 
heard what he said to me about your Natalie !” 
added Maso, in a tone of playful malice. 

What is it ?” asked Julian eagerly. “Is she 
ill ? is she dead ? ” 

“ Oh I no; she is living, and you are the subject 
of her daily and nightly thoughts.” 

“ Did he tell you who she is ? ” 

“ Who she is ? You tell me.” 

“I ?” 

“ Yes ; you need not simulate amazement ! Now 
know that I am aware that Natalie is your be- 
trothed, your Laura, your Beatrice.” 

‘‘Did Florence give you that bit of intelli- 
gence?” enquired Julian with a smile of unmis- 
takable pleasure. 

“ I did ]iot say that. Flore nce seemed to me to 


The Hunter of the Alps. *j\ 

be a man of too much discretion to talk on such 
matters; but Pm not a dullard, and I assure you 
I understood a great many more things than you 
imagine 

‘‘Well, once for all, will you tell me what he 
said to you ? ” 

“ And you — will you reveal your mysteries ? ” 

After a moment’s painful hesitation Julian 
removed his kepi, approached his friend, and in a 
serious tone remarked : 

“Well, a truce to levity. Could you but read 
my heart, you would there discover a wound that 
would compel your commiseration. And now, in 
the sacred name of friendship, I ask you frankly to 
relate to mo your conversation with Florence.” 

“Certainly, but only on the condition that you 
will tell me in turn all about Natalie.” 

“Agreed.” 

“Well, Florence asked for information of his 
young Master Julian de son of a widow coun- 

tess, who had fled from home to enlist in the army 
of Piedmont. He added that the youthful count 
was not as yet eighteen years of age ; that he was 
the only heir of his house ; that he was enormously 
wealthy and of irreproachable character. He told 
me likewise that his mother would not be com- 
forted since his departure.” 

“That’s not so,” interrupted Julian, with im- 
passioned vehemence. 

“But it is, and he moreover added that this 
Julian's mother and sister were almost crazed with 
grief.” 


72 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


As to my sister I have not the least doubt ; but 
■with regard to my mother, it is not only folly but 
falsehood/^ 

What ! are you the J ulian in question ? ” , 

Yes; why conceal the truth any longer ? ” 
Observing that Julian grew deeply agitated, 
Maso refrained from continuing the conversation. 
Giving him his own rations, and assuring him that 
he could place the most implicit confidence in him, 
Maso withdrew, leaving Julian to his own melan- 
choly thoughts. 




CHAPTER X. 

DOIT EGIDIO. 

Ho sooner was the gate of the mansion passed by 
the carriage of Hon Egidio than the voice of Na- 
talie was heard on the top of the terrace. Look 
here ! look here ! she said. 

And the countess started, and, casting a glance 
in the direction indicated, fell back on the lounge 
pale and breathless. 

Good God was her exclamation, what tid- 
ings can he bring with him 

Good news, dearest mother — ^good news ! ” And 
quick as a deer the devoted child was gone to meet 
the carriage. 

Hon Egidio ! Hon Egidio ! ” she cried as she 
stood on the step of the vehicle, ‘^wbat is the 
news now ? ” 

. The very best,” said the canon, smiling. Hid 
not Florence tell you ? Why, Julian is found !” 

Natalie gave a cry of joy and ran back with all 
speed to her mother, only to throw herself breath- 
less and speechless into the arms of the countess, 
who soon saw that all was well. Words could not 
describe the feelings of Ix;onie. This was the first 


74 The Hunter of the Alps, 

moment of relief that poor mother’s heart had 
known after a month of death-like bereavement. 

The carriage has stopped. Don Egidio’s step is 
on the stairs. , Already he has stopped at the half- 
open folding-door. He enters the room smiling. 
And Leonie seizes the good canon’s hands, and 
gives vent to her tumultuous feelings in tears. 

Hatalie did not weep. The fond child saw 
nothing in all but a cause for unbounded joj. 

Don Egidio, good man ! was silent. 

Thank G-od,” said the countess, breaking the 
silence, that my son is safe ! But where is he, 
where is he, that I may go to him ? ” 

I shall explain all when you are a little tran- 
quil.” 

Where is he,where is he ? ” said the impatient 
Natalie. Tell us that now.” 

In one moment ; if you only wait a little while, 
you shall know all.” 

‘^Is he with Garibaldi’s troops ?” enquired the 
mother, who had a foreboding. 

Let me explain to you. Allow me to speak ! 
He is in Piedmont. He is well. Now no 
more interruption, or 1 shall forget half I was about 
to say.” 

The good priest thought to break the disa- 
greeable portion of his news by degrees to the coun- 
tess. The mother and daughter drew their chairs 
near him and listened anxiously to his account. 

^^Now,” he began, ‘‘Julian left here very early 
on a Saturday morning. And who do you think 
was the stranger with the heavy moustache, and 


The Hunter of the Alps. 75 

who was muffled up, who came to go with him ? 
AVhy, the doctor, Alexander.” 

What !”• said the countess, ‘^was it that cut- 
throat, that incendiary ? ” 

^^That outcast!” exclaimed Natalie. ‘^How 
did Julian come to know him, mother ?” 

‘^Julian did not know him, and perhaps to this 
moment is unconscious of how had a man that is.” 

But, dear canon, do not keep me any longer in 
suspense. Say where is my poor brother J alian ?” 

A little patience, my sweet child, and do not, 
please, interrupt me any more. Two days before 
Julian left here — that was on the evening of Thurs- 
day — he was accosted by one of our recruiting offi- 
cers — madame, we have now six in the town. He 
was asked to join the volunteers in the cause of 
their country. Julian was deluded and consented. 
He refused money o:2ered to him to defray his ex- 
penses on the way. On the following Saturday he 
was to meet by appointment that agent of the devil 
at the farm. But he insisted on the affair being 
kept a secret.” 

Oh ! how could my child Julian entertain the 
thought of thus abandoning his mother ?” ex- 
claimed the countess in accents of ineffable grief. 
‘‘ He was the light of my life ; I loved him to dis- 
traction ; and he has not only abandoned me, but 
even stigmatizes me as a tyrant mother! He even 
believes himself to be the object of my hatred. 
Oh I how senseless I was to act towards him so 
haughtily.” 

‘‘There is no necessity to give vourself up a 


76 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


prey to grief, now that , we know his whereabouts. 
We should rather rejoice. But allow me to con- 
tinue : Dr. Alexander, supplied with a fleet horse, 
was ordered by the Liberal "committee to bring 

Julian to , whence he was to proceed to G-enoa 

by stage.” 

‘ The wretches ! ” exclaimed the countess bit- 
terly. ^^The Government knows all this, and yet 
never thinks of interfering. The pettiest thieves 
are sent to the galleys, and yet these kidnappers, 
these conspirators, these enemies of all public hap- 
piness, ply their guilty trade with impunity. The 
Government will repent of all this yet. If the 
French ever come to the rescue of Piedmont, and 
turn the tide of victory in its favor, these vipers, 
nurtured by the Piedmontese king, will turn on 
him and sting him to the heart. Domestic woe 
will ere long be turned into national, calamity 
What terrible tirnes we live in ! ” 

You are perfectly right ; God wishes to chas- 
ten us. Tie permits our legislators to walk in 
the midst of darkness. But, to resume, Julian 
arrived safe and sound at Genoa, and from thence 
proceeded to Turin. All this intelligence has been 
communicated to me by the secretary of the com- 
mittee. At Turin Julian enlisted, but as yet I am 
not aware if it was in the volunteers of Garibaldi 
or in the bersaglieri' * 

Ah ! I had a presentiment that Julian had 
fallen into this abyss,” replied the mother. “ You 
know npt, then, in what regiment ho enlisted ?” 


* Chasspiurs. 


The Hwiter of the Alps. 77 

‘‘In the hersaglieriy is it not added Natalie in 
broken, quivering accents. 

“To be candid, I must tell you the truth : Julian 
has selected the Garibaldians.” 

At this unwelcome intelligence both mother 
and daughter looked the picture of unutterable 
grief. 

“ Your distress on learning this news does not 
in the least surprise me,” continued the canon, 
“and I feel it just iis keenly as you do. But you 
must, nevertheless, deem it a great satisfaction 
to have learned Julian’s whereabouts. The main 
difficulty is already overcome. Before a week 
elapses you shall see him home safe and well.” 

“But then the disgrace of his having joined the 
army of that wretched old fillibuster who turned 
Kome topsy-turvy in 1849 ! Ah ! what would my 
poor Valerian say were he alive to-day ? ” 

“ These Garibaldians are not all real demons,” 
exclaimed Natalie, endeavoring, as usual, to ap- 
pease by her gracious candor the impetuous and 
passionate emotion of the countess. “Florence 
has probably exaggerated. You know how fastidi- 
ous he is ; he always looks at the dark side of every- 
thing. Besides, you remember what he told us 
about that excellent -and amiable youth whom he 
met at Savigliano. There are,_you may be sure, 
many others like him there, and Julian will not be 
slow to select them as companions.” 

“Is he stationed at Savigliano?” demanded 
Leonie, with tearful accents. 

He is ; a young medical student of my ao 


The Hunter of the Alps, 

qiiainfcance wrote no later than this morning that 
a week ago, on the 15th inst., while passing through 
Savigliano to join his regiment, he was agreeably 
surprised on meeting J ulian. He had a lengthy 
conversation with him, and learned that he is the 
only one from this city who enlisted in the Chas- 
seurs of the Alps.” 

On the 15th, did you say ? Why, Florence was 
at Savigliano on the 16th, and searched the call- 
rolls with the greatest care, but failed to find his 
name. How can that be explained ? ” 

‘^In the simplest manner imaginable. Julian 
assumed a false name, of course. I know his cha- 
racter thoroughly. He certainly wishes to remain 
incognito^ but that will not prevent us from finding 
him.” 

The countess, deeply moved, remained for a mo- 
ment motionless, and then, as a sudden gleam of 
joy shot across her countenanee, continued : 

We shall start for Savigliano to-morrow, then.” 

At these words Natalie’s face lit up with a 
radiant joyousness and beauty, reminding one of 
the angels of Eaphael. 

It was agreed that Hon Egidio and Florence were 
to dine with the countess on that day. It was a 
delicate meeting, and one calculated to rufiie the 
vanity of Florence not a little. Natalie, who, not- 
withstanding her sudden joy, did not forget to take 
every precaution to prevent any unpleasantness, 
preceded her mother and the canon to the dining- 
room. She called Florence aside, and in the most 
engaging accents said ; ' 


The Hunter of the Alps, ^9 

Florence, you are fully and entirely justified. 
Mother and I were deceived as well as you. Julian 
assumed a false name.” 

replied Florence with triumphant air, 

I now esteem Don Egidio a thousand times more 
than ever. From the outset I felt convinced that 
Julian had changed his name. I said so, as you 
recollect, a hundred times. But you know I was 
as often contradicted ; ‘ it was impossible, a pure 
invention, preposterous.’ You now see I was right. 
But has Julian been really found ? ” 

‘‘ Yes ; he is at Savigliano, in the army of Gari- 
baldi. There can be no mistake about it.” 

‘'It is not impossible. But why should I not 
have met him? He were so easily distinguished 
among those abandoned wretches. Oh I did you 
but see them for a moment.” 

“ I hope you will be silent on that point in pre- 
sence of mother. You should strive by every means 
to mitigate the melancholy news you brought us 
last evening. Speak at length of that excellent 
young man with whom you were so well pleased, 
and say nothing of a nature calculated to intensify 
mother’s grief.” 

During dinner the conversation was lively and 
pleasant. The old home seemed to have regained its 
wonted happiness. Julian was, of course, the ab- 
sorbing topic. 

The countess, though she evinced no marks of 
excessive joy, was much more calm than usual. 
She chatted pleasantly, and the smile on her lips 
was to Natalie as the ray of spring-time. The 


8o 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


canoii, though a grave man of over fifty years of 
age, gave himself up on this occasion to banter and 
jollity. In a good-natured sort of way he began to 
talk of Florence’s late tour in a nonchalant, cavalier 
fashion. The latter took no offence thereat, and 
even accepted as complimentary the refined wit of 
the canon. Provided everybody acknowledged that 
he had scrupulously fulfilled his mission, Florence 
was prepared to hear everything, so overjoyed was 
he on learning the welcome news that Julian was 
safe and well. 

^‘You were somewhat sceptical this morning,” 
remarked Leonie, in communicating the details 
of your journey, and in referring to the canon you 
spoke in a strain that I hope you will avoid for the 
future. The idea, to doubt of a fact so palpably 
evident !” 

^'You must pardon me,” responded Florence. 
^^You cannot forget that I made a distinction. 
Had any one pretended to have found Julian under 
his real name and title I would most assuredly per- 
sist in maintaining the contrary. But when I 
learn that he has been found under an assumed 
name, it puts an entirely different complexion on 
the matter.” 

That’s perfectly true,,” observed Don Egidio ; 
‘‘everything you do and say is executed with 
mechanical precision.” 

“Eight,” answered Florence, with evident self- 
complacency. 

“ Can’t you give us any fresh information anent 
the Chasseurs of the Alps stationed at Savigliano 


The Hunter of the Alps, 8i. 

remarked Natalie. Is it not true that there are a 
multitude of young men among them of high birth 
and superior edTucation ? ” 

I only know of one— he whq made, as I told 
you, so deep an impression on me. h veritable 
rose among thorns.” 

But there must be many others like him in the 
regiment.” 

Not many ; I doubt very much if there is 
another one, except, perhaps, Julian. As for me, 
I had rather see my portrait in the rogues’ gallery 
than among them.” 

These words were not overheard by the countess, 
who at the moment was engaged in giving orders 
to one of the servants. Accordingly, the conversa- 
tion was brought to an abrupt termination and an- 
other subject introduced. 

Leonie was firmly resolved to set forth without 
delay for Turin with her daughter, and from thence 
proceed to Savigliano. Toward evening the count- 
ess, full of consolation and hope, started to the city, 
accompanied by Don Egidio and Natalie, in order 
to be ready for the journey on the following morn- 
ing. And this was the mother that Julian had 
stigmatized as tyrannical. However, it must be ad- 
mitted that the countess had greatly changed since 
Julian had left home. She 3 ^earned to behold her 
son once more. Formerly she ambitioned being the 
idol of his heart ; she purposed to reign over his 
affections both as mother and queen. Against the 
queen he revolted, but it were wrong to assert that 
he was in anywise less attached to his mother. 


CHAPTER XL 



REMOKSE. 

JuLiAK, who had sacrificed at such terrible cost 
the dearest affections of the human heart, had lost 
all peace of mind since his sad and ill-advised sepa- 
ration from his mother. Accustomed from his 
childhood to regulate his conduct in conformity 
with the most delicate sentiments of duty and 
piety, he now felt that he had committed a grievous 
error, and was a victim of intense remorse. Hun- 
ger, wretchedness, fatigue, evil company, the hard 
life of the soldier — all were as nothing in compari- 
son to the offence which was ever before his mind. 
He strove, but strove in vain, to divest himself of 
the melancholy thoughts that constantly haunted 
him. Almost every moment his thoughts reverted 
to home, the sanctuary of his tenderest affections. 
The dearest idols of his heart, his mother and sis- 
ter, were ever present to his mind, and rendered 
him wretched and unhappy. He saw Xatalie, a 
prey to grief and anguish, fading like a blasted 
flower and imploring him to return. This image, 
which he could not banish, filled his soul With un- 
utterable woe. 

From time to time he would raise his soul to 
82 


The Hunter of the Alps, 83 

heaven, the sole refuge of the sinner. He felt as- 
sured that mercy would there be shown him, pro- 
vided he repented, made reparation for his offence, 
and reconciled himself with his mother. It was a 
struggle between duty and self-will, between faith 
and pride, between conscience and passion. He 
knew his duty, but chafed at the idea of perform- 
ing it. He hesitated, shrank, resisted the voice of 
conscience, and obstinately persisted in asserting, 

No ; I am right.” 

And it was to dissipate this cloud of gloom that 
Maso so often, when in company with his friend, 
indulged in banter and harmless levity. 

The arrival of Florence, which furnished him 
with so excellent an opportunity to twit Julian in 
a friendly way, filled the heart of the latter with 
ineffable pain. The thought of the undeserved 
grief he had caused Natalie followed him like his 
shadow ; he could no more get rid of it than he 
could of his senses. He sought to dissemble the 
pain caused by his ingratitude toward his mother, 
but he suffered in reality more from it than from 
his conduct toward his sister. 

The harmless raillery of Maso was brought to a 
sudden termination by Julian, who led him aside, 
told him his real name, and related in detail his 
entire family history. In the course of their con- 
versation Julian observed with lively emotion : 

To-day we have formed an indissoluble friend- 
ship. You have promised not to disclose my se- 
cret, and I entertain not the slightest doubt of the 
sincerity of your promise. I am now going to re- 


84 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


veal to you something known but to me alone. In 
so doing I feel that I shall relieve myself of an in- 
tolerable burden. Could you but look within my 
heart and see the hell that’s there ! The arrival of 
Florence hither has renewed all my suffering. I 
am the most unhappy of mortals, for bitterness has 
superseded all love within my soul. The hatred 
displayed toward me by those from whom I should 
naturally expect but unbounded love has changed 
the entire current of my feelings. One j)erson in 
the whole world besides yourself entertains any 
friendship for me — namely, my sister. And yet I 
inflict on her untold pain ; but for that my mother 
is answerable. It is neither Natalie’s fault nor 
mine. My guiding thought is to render her happy, 
but circumstances prevent me from doing so.” 

Maso, sympathizing deeply with his friend, re- 
mained for a moment silent. Oh ! had the Coun- 
tess Leonie but witnessed this scene, how plainly 
she could observe, though now too late, how com- 
pletely the heart of her son was in her keeping. 
Both youths repaired to a bench hard by and 
seated themselves.- 

Maso,” observed Julian, after a brief pause, 
you feel convinced that Natalie is all right, and 
that, without going home, I can restore her to her 
former happiness ? ” 

Write to her,” answered Maso, who now felt 
assured, notwithstanding his former conjectures, 
that Natalie was really Julian’s sister — write to 
her, and she will be happy once more.’ 

‘‘ I would write to her daily but tliat my letters 


The Htinter of the Alps, 


85 


would undoubtedly fall into the hands of" my 
mother, and I don’t wish her to know anything of 
my whereabouts ; as regards her, I may be num- 
bered among the things that were.” 

‘‘But what evil can result from the fact of your 
mother knowing you are still living ? ” 

My friend, you can form no conception of Ine 
kind of mother I have. Imagine a widowed lady, 
possessing an only son whose every thought was 
how he could best please her. Suddenly, and for 
no conceivable reason, he becomes the object of 
her direst hate, deprives him of the simplest and 
most innocent enjoyments — in short, excludes him 
from the family circle. He bears all without mur- 
mur or complaint. But his mother, not satisfied 
with this irrational severity, slanders him in the 
presence of his uncle and tutor, whom she fills- with 
prejudice against him. More than this, without 
the semblance of a pretext, this mother insults her 
son in the presence of a number of friends and 
gloats over his humiliation. Well, allow me to in- 
forni yon that I am that son, and that mother is 
mine.” 

“ My friend, I am under the impression that your 
temper outstrips your judgment. To my mind it 
seems impossible that a mother could entertain the 
shadow of hate against so amiable a son as you. I 
think you are laboring under an egregious mistake. 
I am convinced you do your mother a grave injus- 
tice.” 

‘‘ By no means ; a chasm exists between us that 
can never be bridged over.” 


86 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


‘‘I fail to understand how you can enjoy a quiet 
conscience, and at the same time entertain such a 
virulent resentment toward your mother. As for 
me, I suffer untold anguish for the ungrateful man- 
ner in which I acted toward my parents.” 

I can’t help envying you, then. But you do me 
an injustice when you accuse me of entertaining 
the slightest feeling of resentment. I certainly do 
not believe that children should be made the pup- 
pets of their parents’ caprice. iN’ot only do I not 
hate my mother, but I really love her. However, 
I never want to see her again.” 

Maso readily perceived from this brief conversa- 
tion that his friend’s feelings were deeply wounded, 
lie forthwith changed the subject in question, ask- 
ing his friend if he purposed making his Easter 
duty. 

Certainly,” answered Julian. ‘‘I am a Chris- 
tian, and, what is more serious still, war may break 
out at any moment.” 

You then had better come with me.” 

‘‘When?” 

“ To-morrow, after first drill.” 

“Agreed.” 

“ It will, at least, do us no harm. Then I pur- 
pose writing home to my mother to acquaint her of 
my whereabouts and to ask her to send me a little 
money. And you should be equally courageous 
and write to your sister Natalie.” 

“Yes, we must be prepared to make a slight 
sacrifice occasionally. ” 

“Bravo I And now I want you to relate to me 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


87 


your entire adventures : liow you ran away from 
home, why you changed your surname — in a word, 
everything.” 

Julian accordingly satisfied his friend’s inquisi- 
tiveness, and, apropos of changing his name, add- 
ed : 

I purpose remaining away from home till I at- 
tain my majority. Then I will assume possession 
of my estates, and have no relations whatever with 
my mother. Till then I intend to remain in ob- 
scurity.” 

But in writing your sister what name will you 
assume, and what address will you give her ? ” . 

Yours, if you give me permission.” 

Most assuredly I do.” 

The two young friends continued to talk in the 
same strain for a few moments, and then, at the 
sound of the bugle, repaired to their kennel, where 
they slept more contentedly than usual, thanks to 
the pious resolution they had taken. 




CHAPTEE XII. 

EMOTION'S. 

To the Countess Leonie and her daughter the 
night preceding their departure for Savigliano 
seemed an age. Julian was the exclusive subject 
of their thoughts ; they could think of naught else. 
Xatalie had elaborated a programme for inducing 
Julian to return home. She had anticipated every 
objection and prepared every argument. She was 
convinced that she held the victory in her hands. 
The countess was by no means so con Aden tj she 
harbored within her bosom deep suspicions, which 
clouded her serenity of soul. She conceived that 
Julian’s heart had grown hardened. She who 
knew, or imagined she knew, the cause of his es- 
trangement doubted and grew apprehensive in the 
midst of hope. From time to time she repeated 
the sad exclamation in the saddest of tones, Juli- 
an is lost for ever I ” 

On the following morning at early dawn both re- 
paired to the parish church to celebrate the Feast 
of the Eesurrection. They offered up their most 
heartfelt thanks to Heaven for the favors recently 
bestowed on tliem. On returning from church, 
83 


The Hunter of the Atfs, 89 

wliile the countess was conversing with one of her 
lady attendants, Natalie observed a letter lying on 
the parlor table addressed to her. The superscrip- 
tion was in Julian’s handwriting, and the postal 
mark “ Savigliano.” 

Natalie nervously seized the letter, knew at a 
glance that it was from Julian, but refrained from 
opening it, inasmuch as her mother had forbidden 
her to open any letters addressed to her without 
first seeing them herself. Though painfully impa- 
tient of delay, Natalie awaited her mother’s arri- 
val. 

As she entered the room she rushed into her 
presence with the letter, joyously exclaiming, 
^^This is from Julian!” 

Her mother took it with ill-concealed emotion, 
looked at the superscription, and, handing it back 
to her daughter, requested her to read it. 

Natalie had no sooner pulled open the envelope 
than the countess impetuously exclaimed : 

Give it to me ; I will read it myself.” 

Bhe glanced at it for a moment, and then sud- 
denly exclaimed : 

Yes, it is from him ; read it for mo aloud.” 

Whereupon Natalie read in a broken Yoice the 
following lines • 

Savigliako, April 17 , 1859 . 

My deak sister : More than a month has 
elapsed since I last saw you, but it appears to me 
an age. I had resolved never to write home, but I 
cannot resist the desire of communicating with you. 

^‘This morning I made my Easter duty, and had 


90 The Htinter of the Alps, 

to promise my confessor to write you forthwith. 
He impressed on me with deep-felt earnestness 
that it was my duty both as son and pupil to ask 
pardon of my mother and my guardian for having 
fled from home without her permission. I pro- 
mised unhesitatingly to write to her, and I now, as 
you observe, redeem my promise. 

^^But that promise I must fulfil through you, 
you can do it so much better than I. I also pro- 
mised to say that I entertained no feeling of re- 
sentment against my mother, but that was wholly 
unnecessary, as, notwithstanding the cruel man- 
ner in which she treated me, I love her still with 
an ineffable love that none other but myself can 
know. 

learned by accident the fact that Florence 
came here in search of me, and that he told one of 
my comrades that you were wasting away through 
sorrow since my departure from home. Could you 
only conceive for a moment the pain which your 
grief has caused me ! I protest vehemently against 
your thus foolishly giving' yourself up to sorrowing. 
I hope you will think no more about me, or else 
think about me with joyous spirit. I am well; 
you are the subject of my hourly thoughts, and I 
think more of you than I ever did before. Accord- 
ingly I hope that you will not worry about me for 
the future. 

^^We are told that the congress which it is sup- 
posed will soon meet will postpone, if not indefinite- 
ly defer, the war. Perhaps there will be no war at 
all. At all events we are prepared for all emergen- 


The Hunter of the Alps. 91 

cies. We drill almost eyery hour, Natalie, and if 
you only knew the fatigue I have to suffer I 

I want to have a letter from you, alone and 
beyond all, but you must not send it to my ad- 
dress. I have assumed a false name. I wish you 

to address your letter . to Thomas a young 

soldier of the Second Regiment of the Chasseurs of 
the Alps, first battalion, second company, at Sa- 
vigliano. He is my best — in truth, after you, 
Natalie, the only — friend I have in the world. 

“ Now, I want to ask you for something ; I am 
in need of a little money, and I wouldn’t ask any 
one else for it but you. If you have it, and can 
spare it without inconvenience to yourself, and espe- 
cially without letting any one know it, I shall accept 
it with the most cordial thanks. I yet have that su- 
perb little watch you gave me, and I prize it above 
all things else I possess. But this is not enough ; I' 
want also your photograph at the earliest oppor- 
tunity. Now, as the bugle is about to .sound in a 
few moments, calling us to drill, I must abruptly 
conclude. Yours most faithfully, 

JULIAK.” 

The girl forthwith withdrew from the presence 
of her mother, whose heart was deeply moved. In 
its hasty reading this letter seemed to her so replete 
with beauty, piety, and tenderness that it appeared 
specially written to console her afflicted mother. 
Alone in her quiet room she sought to calm the tu- 
mult of her sentiments, and measure, by her own 
excessive joy, her mother’s happiness in that long- 
desired moment. 


92 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


Natalie now conceived the idea of destroying the 
cruel letter that Julian had left at his departure; 
After the present affectionate missive she should 
not keep the other, but, on the contrary, forget that 
it was ever written. 

In her haste she forgot that she had transcribed 
it on a former occasion and had placed the copy’ 
in her bureau. She accordingly destroyed it, and 
then repaired to the presence of her mother, who 
still continued to read and meditate upon the last 
letter. 

Natalie found her mother perusing, perhaps for 
the twentieth time, Julian’s kind ai)d tender note. 

Mother,” she exclaimed, you must now, at 
least, feel content,” and then added : 1 have just 

destroyed that cruel, ill-conceived letter that J ulian 
wrote on the eve of his flight from home. Do not 
think of it any more, pray ; Julian has repented of 
his offence. What sweet, tender sentiments it con- 
tains ! ” 

‘^Doubtless you And it exceedingly beautiful,” 
coolly answered the lady, as she looked at *her 
daughter with a smile of quiet sarcasm. ^‘Tlie 
more I read that letter the less am I satisfied with 
it. But then I am not Natalie, the only object of his 
love, the only friend left him in all the world,^^ 

What ! you cannot surely be displeased with 
that letter ? ” 

^^But to whom has this ungrateful boy writ- 
ten ?” added the mother in a bitter tone. 

Why, to me,” answered Natalie. “Have you 
not read it ? ” 


The Hunter of the Alps. 93 

To yon,” continued the countess. But you — 

who are you ? ” 

Why, I am liis sister.” 

And does lie not know that he has a mother — 
that I am that mother ? And it is to you that lie 
has the audacity to write, and tell you that you are 
the only one in the world who ever cared for him. 
As for me, he does not even deign to mention my 
name, but refers to me as her. He is a confirmed 
ingrate ! ” 

I must have been most cruelly deceived, then,” 
answered Hatalie, in a half-timid tone. 

What ! doesn’t he know you are not his mo- 
ther ? Still he tells you that you are the only idol 
of his affections; appeals to you to send him 
money and give him your portrait. And as to me, 
not a word — scarce a reference; all about you, his 
‘ dear sister.’ You the only object of his affec- 
tions, and a thousand times dearer to him than 
you ever were before.” 

'‘But did not Julian beg your pardon?” de- 
manded Natalie, in a disappointed tone. 

“No ; it is simply a piece of derision ; an insult 
a hundredfold worse than his silence. It is not in 
a cavalier way one begs pardon of a mother treated 
as I have been. Why should he ask you to act as 
his interpreter with me ? Did he not know that I 
have eyes to read, a heart to receive, his expressions 
of repentance and forgive him ? Bub he cares not 
about having my forgiveness ; he had much rather 
I was dead. But you are the idol of his heart, the 
only one in all the world who cares for him, and I, 


94 The Hunter of the Alps, 

who am squandering away my yery existence for 
him, seem to him as though I never lived. I am 
simply referred to as — her I To nobody save you 
does he owe anything ! And now, when he wants 
assistance, it is you, and not me, he asks for it, as 
though I refused him for it. Does he not know 
that everything you possess you receive from me ? 
You ought to be ashamed of having unjustly de- 
fended him as you have done.” And then, rising 
from her chair with a haughty air, she swept out 
of the room, adding as she went : Preserve with 
all the selfishness you please the love which he 
sends you. And now you can go to Savigliano to 
look for him ; I purpose staying at home.” And 
as she spoke she fiung Julian’s letter in the face of 
her daughter, left the room, and betook herself to 
her private apartments. 




CHAPTEE XIII. 

EUMOKS OF WAR. 

Ok Easter Sunday morning Julian was on duty 
as sentinel in front of the barracks. As he marched 
up and down, with his piece on his shoulder, and 
as stiff as if he had been starched and ironed, he 
observed that a more than' ordinary excitement 
prevailed among his companions in arms. There 
was a perpetual rush to and fro, an ominous mur- 
mur, a sorb of rabble gathering, and boisterous 
talk here and there through the barracks yard, in- 
termingled with vociferous cries of Hurrah for 
Italy ” ‘‘ Hurrah for France ” ‘‘ Hurrah for 

King Victor Emmanuel! ‘‘Hurrah for Gari- 
laidi ! ’’ As he turned on his round, Julian found 
himself in the presence of one of the Chasseurs of 
the Alps. 

“ Well, what’s the news ? ” 

“ We are going to meet the Austrians ! Hurrah 
for Italy!” 

Julian looked at him with an air of mingled sur- 
prise and incredulity. 

A few moments subsequently a Lombard soldier 
entered the quarters in a state of more than ordi- 
95 



96 


TJte Hunter of the Alps, 


nary excitement, carrying an armful of muskets 
and bayonets. 

What the deuce have you there ? ” asked J ulian 
in amazement. 

Some cold steel for the Croats. We march for 
the battle-field to-morrow. Long live Italy I ’’ 

Julian smiled sadly, and continued on his round. 

A third soldier in a few moments passed by. 

‘MVhat news?” again enquired Julian in an 
anxious tone. 

Prepare for the march,” answered the chasseur, 
as he rushed by with a pompous, swaggering air. 

Julian could scarcely believe this piece of serious 
intelligence. He remained pensive and motionless 
for a brief space, then, ‘^ordering” his musket and 
^‘resting” on his bayonet, he remained for some 
moments waiting to be relieved from duty. Sud- 
denly some one touched him gently on the shoul- 
der. It was Maso, who stood and looked in his 
face in his usual good-natured way. He seemed 
to be in the best of good-humor, though somewhat 
excited. 

‘^I have good news,” he observed suddenly, in a 
nervous, impetuous manner. 

‘‘What is it? War?” asked Julian with quick 
anxiety. 

“ So they say, I am told ; but I have in my wal- 
let something else besides war. I have assured 
victory. It is down below there ; you will see it in 
a moment.” And as he spoke he skipped out of 
the room. 

J ulian’s blood in a moment became quicksilver; ho 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


97 


paced up and down nervously, and burned impa- 
tiently to rejoin his friend. The warlike shouts of 
his comrades, their stupid rejoicing, and, above all, 
the few hints thrown out by Maso, gave rise in his 
mind to a multitude of suspicions, fears, hopes, il- 
lusions, which made every moment seem to him an 
age. 

In order to understand his agitation of mind cor- 
rectly, the reader must take into due consideration 
the political condition of Italy at this period, when 
nobody seemed disposed to look seriously on the pre- 
tentious boasts of the majority of certain people 
and the deafening sounds of approaching war. 

It is none of our purpose here to explain at any 
length the causes which then held Europe in sus- 
pense and Italy on her tenter-hooks. 

Whatever may be thought of these mysteries, 
many of which are not yet clearly understood, cer- 
tain it is that from the earliest days of 1859 a sin- 
gular course of action toward Austria was inaugu- 
rated in Turin, which course of action obtained 
throughout the entire Lombardo-Yenetian king- 
dom, and the whole world had dinned into its ears 
a perpetual litany of remonstrances, complaints, 
and threats. The mysterious brochures which were 
scattered broadcast throughout Italy were an active 
agent in egging on the Italians to war. During 
the interval the political ^^sects,” most all of whom 
were affiliated and devoted body and soul to the 
cause of Piedmont, lent a helping hand to the po- 
liticians of Turin, and grasped at every pretext for 
war under the abused name of a United Italy. 


98 


The Himter of the Alps, 


Meantime numerous bands of volunteers assem- 
bled from all quarters of Italy to swell the ranks of 
the King of Sardinia. In violation of all law, and 
spurning every sentiment of honor, the new con- 
scripts hurried by hundreds to Piedmont. It was 
agreed that Piedmont should play the role of lamb 
in the presence of a wolf. 

At Turin every one was engaged in organizing 
the army, in procuring war materials, provisioning 
fortresses, issuing bounties to the Italian youth, and 
in studying every means to impress the Emperor 
Francis Joseph with the fact that the gauntlet was 
flung down in his path. 

While the journals and manufacturers of news 
announced peace to-day and war to-morrow, and 
parliament members chattered like.parrots, skilful 
diplomats were flying from court to court to raise 
the storm they pretended to dread. At the mo- 
ment the crisis seemed to be at its height the meet- 
ing of a congress was proposed by Eussia. The 
proposition was accepted, and before Easter nego- 
tiations were entered on. England intervened, 
and endeavored to smooth over all difficulties. All 
the indications of war seemed for the moment to 
vanish, and the volunteers garrisoned at Piedmont, 
for the moment, lost courage and almost despaired 
of war. 

It is, then, no cause of surprise that Julian, who 
had witnessed the complaints and dissatisfaction of 
his companions at the tergiversation and hypocrisy 
of the policy of Piedmont, was still in doul)t on 
hearing of the approaching war. 


99 


The Hunter of the Alps. 

But this was not the only cause of his uneasi- 
ness. He harbored an intense and poignant ani- 
mosity towards his mother, whom he regarded as 
his persecutor, and whom he nevertheless felt and 
knew was not by any means what he wished, in 
vain, to persuade himself she was. In obedience 
to one of the many mysteries of human nature, 
J ulian, who keenly felt the wrong he had commit- 
ted, and who deeply regretted it, endeavored to 
soothe his conscience by calumniating his mother 
and casting on her all the blame attaching to him- 
self. But the endeavor to. lie to one’s own con- 
science is an impossible experiment. From that 
hour his heart was the scene of a perpetual conflict 
between duty and passion, between the counsels of 
Christian réason and the subterfuge of imaginary 
wrong, between the belief that he not only did not 
hate, but on the contrary loved, his mother. And 
these protestations, which he unceasingly repeated, 
were so many accusations against himself. 

He knew the tender susceptibility of his mother; 
he knew how passionately he loved her ; how jealous 
she was of his esteem and affection; how inex- 
orable she was in exacting from him every mark of 
courtesy and attention, and all those marks of re- 
spect which a kind mother is supposed to expect, 
lie did not forget how many times he had promised 
his mother that he would, ever remain near her as 
her stay and consolation, and how tenderly he re- 
ciprocated every mark of affection she showed him. 
He did not forget the thousand occasions when she 
evinced toward him a mother’s partiality for her 


i<X) The Hunter of the Alps. 

only boy. Julian was naturally generous, kind, 
and virtuous. Despite his every effort he could 
not but feel that he had unjustly caused his mother 
unspeakable pain. He tried to persuade himself 
that he no longer loved his mother ; that she in 
effect hated him ; but his conscience spurned the 
pretext and told him he was wrong. 

He was so affectionately attached to his sister 
that he seemed to live but for her. Anything 
against himself he could willingly forgive, but a 
word said against her—never 1 She was the object of 
all his affection and solicitude, and was scarce ever 
absent from his thoughts. He imagined himself not 
only her brother but her guardian and protector. 

His mother was delighted at the kindness he 
evinced toward his sister, and not unfrequently 
told him so.^ If virtuous children are the pride and 
joy of a mother, the Countess Leonie must needs 
have been happy to possess two such children as 
Julian and Hatalie. True, the sudden and unex- 
pected flight from home of Julian had rent a link 
of that golden chain of happiness ; but he bore 
within bis breast a kindly heart, instinct with love 
and virtue. Amid all the scenes through which he 
passed the ever-uppermost thought in his mind was 
the pain he caused his sister by his freak, and re- 
fusal to communicate with his mother. 

' Thanks to the good advice of his companion, he 
performed his religious duties, and, in accordance 
with the advice of his confessor, promised, by a 
supreme effort, to repress within his soul any 
feeling of resentment toward his mother. 


The Hunter of the Alps, loi 

He forced himself at length to believe that he 
■was not even the object of her hate, and forgave her 
for the imaginary wrongs she had wrought against 
him. 

Julian was thoroughly sincere. Had he not been 
at Savigliano, he would have hastened home and 
reconciled himself with his mother. But he was 
so far away and so circumstanced, that this was 
impossible ; and meantime the glowing fire of filial 
love flagged and smouldered. 

The letter which he penned to Natalie cost his 
proud spirit much; in writing it he imagined that 
he was the very impersonation of meekness and hum- 
bleness ; but, as has been seen, he studiously avoided 
saying a word to his mother. While sincerely un- 
der the impression that he was acting as an affec- 
tionate and submissive son, he was really only act- 
ing as a.brother. 

Julian awaited an answer from day to day with 
eager anxiety. He deemed it impossible that Nata- 
lie would refuse to send him a few lines of consola- 
tion and encouragement. At times he sought to 
persuade himself that his mother, to punish him, or 
through a spirit of pure resentment, had forbid- 
den his sister write him ; but as frequently his bet- 
ter judgment rejected the idea. He dreaded the 
thought of the manner in which his letter would 
be perused, commented upon, and dissected by his 
mother, and almost reproached himself for having so 
far humbled himself to her. But he likewise knew 
that she would derive much consolation therefrom 
— a circumstance which caused him, even though 


102 The Hunter of the Alps, 

against his will, to rejoice. He imaginéd he saw 
Natalie sending him the money asked for, and his 
mother doubling the sum, and debated within his 
mind as to whether or not he should accept his sis- 
ter’s and reject his mother’s gift. 

To one so circumstanced and in such condition 
of mind it will be easily understood how unwelcome 
was the news of immediate war. He yearned to 
hear from home ; he awaited with wearying impa- 
tience the pecuniary assistance he had asked for 
and which he so keenly needed, and a multitude of 
things that he himself scarce knew. But now he 
was about to start on the campaign, from which 
perhaps he might never return. These thoughts 
lay heavily on his soul and caused him the most 
poignant pain. 

After a brief space the corporal relieved his 
guard, and in a few moments he was in his friend’s 
presence to learn the latest war intelligence. 




CHAPTER XIV. 

FIVE HUNDRED FRANCS. 

Julian found Maso in the height of good-humor, 
his face radiant with joy, and, calling him aside to 
a quiet and retired spot, asked : 

What’s the latest news anent the war ?” 

^^The French, I understand, have crossed the 
Savoy frontier, and to-morrow we will be ordered 
out to pepper the Croats.” 

Then may Heaven, help us ! for they will make 
short work of us.” 

Oh ! away with all groundless fears. Don’c 
you know it is all braggadocio ? But look you 
here,” he added, drawing, as he spoke, from the 
pocket of his huge coat an envelope, which he os- 
tentatiously flourished before his friend. 

What is that ?” demanded Julian curiously. 

A letter from my father enclosing a check for 
five hundred francs, which I purpose getting cashed 
at noon.” 

What ! you have received a letter from 
home ? ” 

‘^Yes, half a dozen letters in one. The first 
page, as you observe, is from my father, the next 
from my mother, and those three notes enclosed 
103 


104 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


are from my three brothers. And all extend to me 
full pardon.” 

cannot help envying you. And what do they 
all say to you ? ” 

Oh ! a multitude of things, the best of all 
which is the circumstance that my mother has re- 
covered since the reception of my letter from the 
severe illness she was stricken with in consequence 
of my flight from home. She urges me in the most 
earnest terms possible to return, but you know I 
am so circumstanced that I cannot. Listen for a 
moment and I will read it for you.” 

Julian looked at the letter with envious eye, and, 
while Maso read, intently contemplated the exces- 
sive tenderness of his friend’s parents, and, his 
thoughts sadly revelling to his own case, he con- 
sidered himself as being alone and uncared for in 
the world. The tears welled to his eyes as Maso 
read the following passage from his mother’s let- 
ter. 

You are the subject of my daily and nightly 
thoughts. I have wept for you till the fountains 
of my tears are dried up. Nothing keeps me alive 
but the hope of seeing you once more. How could 
you conceive for a moment that I could hesitate to 
forgive you ? ” 

How different from my situation ! ” exclaimed 
Julian impetuously. 

But you did not observe the promise you made 
your confessor. He enjoined you to write your 
mother directly, and you nevertheless obstinately 
persisted in writing your sister.” 


105 


The Hunter of the Alps, 

‘^Yoii are mistaken in that. The good pastor 
did, indeed, earnestly advise me to write my 
mother, but when I demurred to his counsels he 
declared that he would be fully satisfied with a 
letter to itTatalie, provided that I would ask pardon 
in clear, unmistakable terms. And that I did.” 

Well, I certainly would not have acted as you 
have done, but I suppose you know your own busi- 
ness best.” 

‘^In that regard I do; I could not even think 
of writing to her. If I do not get an answer it will 
furnish a further proof, if such indeed were want- 
ing, of la.QV kindly feelings toward me.” 

‘‘ Of your sister ? ” 

No, my mother T 

Pshaw ! that’s folly. It is plain by the way 
you talk that you effected no reconciliation with 
her.” 

don’t want anything from her, and I do not 
expect anything ; the best thing she can do toward 
me is to imagine I never existed. But I do desire 
intensely to know what has become of my sister, 
and how she is. Do you think my letter may have 
gone astray ? ” 

^^No ; it isn’t likely.” 

Well, then, why is it not answered ?” 

^^Have I not told you a thousand times it is be- 
cause your mother has looked at the thing in its 
wrong light ? Think you, if, instead of writing my 
mother directly, I addressed my letter to my sister 
Jennie, I would have received this letter and this 
bank check ?” 


I 06 The Himtcr of i/ie Alps. 

Still it will be a piece of intolerable tyranny to 
forbid Natalie to write to me, her brother. If so, 
she will pay dearly for it ; because no sooner shall 
I attain my majority than I will take Natalie away 
from her entirely, as I shall then be her legal 
guardian.” 

You are very wrong to talk so ; you are entirely 
too spiteful.” 

■ But I am tired of her insults ; I could pardon 
her all else but the. fact of her alienating Natalie’s 
sympathy for me. If you only knew what a delight- 
ful girl she is ; it were impossible not to love her.” 

‘‘ I can imagine what she is. She has, I presume, 
all your good qualities and none of your bad ones. 
Do you expect to get much money, if Natalie an- 
swers' your letter ? ” 

Oh ! no. If she can get together twenty francs 
it will be something wonderful. I do not expect 
any more, and shall be quite satisfied with that. I 
would prize more a cent from her than the wealth 
of Croesus, if given by her mother.” 

And you are foolish enough to believe that if 
your sister sends you money your mother will not 
do likewise ?” 

‘‘I told you I didn’t want any from her ; if she 
sends it, I will return it immediately.” 

ril guarantee you won’t. Once you get it you 
will be glad to keep it.” 

And Maso, taking up the letter, continued to 
read, without for an instant suspecting that by his 
demonstrations of joy he was causing Julian the 
most exquisite pain. 


The Hunter of the Alps, 107 

Toward noon Maso requested him to accompany 
him to the bank, whither he was going to get his 
note cashed, and have a good dinner in the best 
restaurant in the city. At the close of the meal 
Maso drew out the sum he had received, and, count- 
ing out half of it, reached it to Julian, remarking 
as he did so : 

‘‘These two hundred and fifty francs are for 
you.” 

Julian looked at him with unmixed amazement, 
and refused to accept his friend’s generous ofier. 

“‘But you must,” urged Maso ; “ among friends 
everything should be divided. I am not in strait- 
ened circumstances. I can get more money when- 
ever I need it. Were my mother to know that I 
have a friend as kind ^nd amiable as you are, and 
not divide with him, she would deem me ungrateful 
and unworthy of her. So take half ; it is yours, 
and look well that you do not let it be stolen.” 

Presently they left the room. Julian, deeply 
moved and confused at the generous action of his 
comrade, remained for a moment silent, and then 
observed as he grasped his comrade’s hand : 

“ Listen. I do not expect anything from home, 
and, furthermore, I do not intend to accept any- 
thing coming from that source. However, I am 
heir to a large estate which will soon come into my 
possession. More than that, I will then be the 
guardian of my sister, herself heiress to an enor- 
mous fortune, and one of the most beautiful of 
mortals, and I should be delighted if you would ac- 
cept her hand in mnrrii!Zo.’’ 


io8 The Hunter of the Alps. 

Wby, impossible ! I am not a count, a mar- 
quis, nor a nobleman/’ 

But you have a noble heart — that is sufficient ; 
you belong to the nobility of nature. The only 
danger remaining for either of us is the Austrian 
shot and shell.” 

Both comrades proceeded immediately to the 
barracks. Scarcely had they entered the yard when 
they were informed of a telegram from Garibaldi, 
ordering their regiment to proceed at once to 
Chivasso. War had at length broken out, and they 
were to start on campaign early on the morrow. 



CHAPTER XV. 

A mother’s heart. 

It were unjust to conclude from the harsh man- 
ner in which the countess acted toward Natalie that 
her love of J ulian was in the least diminished. Since 
he had so cruelly slighted her she had fallen a prey 
to an acerbity of manner which she had never 
known before, and which she now displayed on the 
occasion of the least annoyance. But these spells 
lasted but a few moments. Usually these storms 
fell on the head of poor Natalie, who, gentle and 
timid, never complained, but by her amiability and 
tender kindness endeavored to restore her mother 
to her usual serenity. This melancholy condition 
of her mother, was not the least painful of the 
many thorns that pierced her tender heart, already 
so grievously wounded by the loss of her brother. 
Leonie could not bear to be separated for an instant 
from her daughter, now her sole delight and com- 
fort ; and Natalie, the tender victim, who felt her- 
self wasting away through' grief at sight of her 
woe-stricken mother, had, by a refinement of filial 
piety, not only to repress her sighs ajid dissemble 
her grief, but even to simulate a happiness which 

109 


no The Thinter of the Alps. 

she did no fc enjoy. And what was freqaently the 
reward of this heroic charity ? Severe rebukes and 
harsh words from a mother almost beside herself. 
Without a special grace from heaven it were difid- 
cult to conceive how a child of such a tender dis- 
position and excessive sensibility could bear up un- 
der these severe trials. 

However, it is but just to observe that Leonie 
acted on Easter Sunday with more than her or- 
dinary harshness toward Hatalie, on the occasion 
of the reception of Julian’s letter. But the cause 
that kindled the fire of her passion possessed in 
itself also the means of extinguishing it. If it 
wounded it likewise healed the wound it made. 
That wound, as may be remembered, was disappoint- 
ed hope. On receiving that unexpected letter the 
countess before opening it reckoned on its contents, 
but unhappily the reality did not correspond with 
her expectations. She imagined that Julian would 
make a great display of the sentiments of tender- 
ness, piety, and obedience with , which she knew 
him to be animated. She judged Julian’s heart by 
her own, or. rather she imagined that the Julian of 
Savigliano had again become the Julian of former 
years. She believed herself slighted, and her in- 
dignation knew no bounds. It could scarce bo 
otherwise. The love displayed to ISTatalie exclu- 
sively wounded the mother’s feeling severely ; the 
mild expressions, the studied phrases, the infinite 
tenderness for her alone deeply impressed her. 
Julian’s preference for his sister seemed to his 
mother an unnatural substitution of the love he 


The Hunter of the Alps, in 

owed herself; she looked upon herself as a de- 
throned queen ; her daughter she regarded as a 
rival preferred, and she grew jealous of her success. 
In the excess of her indignation she made Natalie . 
sorely suffer for the partial and exclusive love of 
her brother. It was but an instance of the weak- 
ness of human nature. 

And yet a letter from Julian, who, after having 
scrupulously performed his religious duties, hum- 
bled himself so much, though not to his mother, 
was an event of no common importance. 

After the first storm of passion had subsided, 
this letter, reprehensible though it was, became a 
suggestive fact to the mind of Leonie. She knew 
by heart every word of the ill-conceived one Julian 
had written on the eve of his departure. What a 
difference between the two letters ! In the former 
Julian had steeped his pen in gall and wormwood 
with regard to herself ; in the latter he had studi- 
ously avoided any harsh language. The one was 
dictated by bitterness and spite, the other displg,yed 
naught else than cold indifference ; the one stig- 
matized her as a tyrant mother, the other confined 
itself to referring to his mother as her ; every line 
in the first breathed anger and bitterness, in point 
of fact the second asked to be forgiven. Accord- 
ingly the latter note. could not but soon become as 
a healing balfn. 

And such.it did indeed become. .Scarce had the 
countess calmed down after her outburst of anger 
than she regretted and grew ashamed of her own 
weakness. She recollected how unjustly she treat- 


1 12 The Huiitcr of the Alps. 

ed her daughter. She repented of her hasty act, 
and, opening the door, called to her presence Na- 
talie, who had remained in her room weeping bit- 
terly. On seeing her Leonie deplored in the depths 
of her heart her inconsiderate weakness, and, ten- 
derly embracing Natalie, endeavored to soothe her, 
requesting her in the tenderest of accents to take 
no notice of her involuntary rebuke, to pardon her, 
and seat herself by her side. Essaying to control 
her feelings, and awakening the sweet sentiments 
of abnegation of which a mother’s heart is alone 
capable, the countess asked for Julian’s letter, 
which she proceeded to read ^ again, both herself 
and Natalie commenting on every period, passage, 
phrase, and word, interpreting even the omis- 
sions and reticences. To what a keen dissection, 
what a rigorous criticism, were not these hastily- 
written lines subjected ! Happily, Natalie was 
present with her quick intelligence, sharpened by 
her love for her erring brother, to solve every diffi- 
culty, explain every obscure point, render clear 
every difficulty, fill up every void, and many such 
indeed were there in that letter. 

Her strongest point of defence, however, was 
that Julian had instructed her to ask his mother 
to forgive him. 

‘^Accordingly,” she insisted, “ it is from me and 
not from J ulian that you should exact all the ex- 
cuses, protestations, professions of submission, and 
the reparation due to you.” 

‘‘ But why did he not write to me, then ? ” 

“ Because he was ashamed to do so, being per^ 


The Hunter of the Alps. 113 

fectly conscious of how deeply lie displeased you. 
\ ou know well of what a susceptible disposition he 
is.” 

^^But why pompously tell you that he wrote 
solely at the instance of his confessor, instead of 
doing so of his own free will ? Any act forced 
from one cannot pretend to lay claim to merit \ he 
who performs an act of that character is not sin- 
cere.” 

‘‘Because he was anxious to impress on your 
mind that he acted solely in accordance with the 
dictates of his conscience, and you always taught 
him that in acting in obedience to his conscience 
he would prove that he was sincere.” 

“ But why not speak of me as his mother, in- 
stead of merely referring to me as her ? What does 
he mean by her 9 ” 

“Julian thinks of you with such affectionate fa- 
miliarity that to him the word her appeared just 
the same as mother. That is as clear as day.” 

“Well, he it so ; but then he never sent me a 
single expression of his love. Oh ! if he but knew 
what consolation it would afford me.” 

“ Well, since he has instructed me to ask your 
pardon for him, I am entitled to offer you the ex- 
pressions of love and affection. I do so in his 
name a thousand times ; you must surely be satis- 
fied with that.” 

“ Yes, but your professions of love are not his. 
And then to say that you are all the world to him, 
you alone — is not that the height of insolence ? 
Did he not know that I would read his letter ? 


1 14 The Himter of the Alps. 

The idea, of his writing to yoif, alone stings me to 
the heart. AVhy not write to me also, and to me 
much rather than to you ?” 

“ Oh ! those things are only the result of his 
customary peculiarities ; you should pay no atten- 
tion to them. You know full well as I that Julian 
has ever treated me with all the marked kindness 
that brother ever showed a sister ” ; and she added, 
in tear-laden voice : ‘^He employs those endearing 
expressions simply because he knows that it would 
please me. But you may rest assured that he did 
not mean the slightest offence to you by so doing ; 
all liis expressions of affection for me were written 
solely with a view of pleasing you, and if he said 
nothing about you personally it certainly was not 
from want of will.” 

“Why did he not say so, or why, before con- 
cluding, give some indication of his affection for 
me ?” 

“Do you not remember him saying that he 
wrote in a great hurry, that the bugle had just 
sounded for roll-call ?” And, to change the subject 
of conversation, the girl adroitly asked : “What 
is the meaning of roll-call ? ” 

“ It is the act of summoning the soldiers at fixed 
times into the presence of their officers, where each 
must answer his name when called.” 

“And what will Julian do now that he has 
changed his name ?” 

“Yes, I had forgotten. Dow that melancholy 
comedy he is playing pains me ! To deny his fa- 
ther’s name— the name which I always called him ! ” 


The Hunter of the Alps. 115 

‘^Bufc you must not forget that he has signed 
his real name in writing us. If lie has assumed 
another name among the Garibaldians it is, per- 
haps, all the better.” 

But what if he get perverted among that horde 
of libertines and unbelievers ? — he who was so 
pure, so modest, and that after all my assiduity to 
keep him removed from evil company and render 
him pious and yirtuous !” 

Oh ! as to that there is not the slightest dan- 
ger. If he had grown bad he would not have per- 
formed his religious duties ; and in this connection 
you may remember how he said that he had only 
one associate, a certain Maso, whom he praised 
so lavishly. He is that splendid young soldier 
whom Florence met ; he as much as said so. Flo- 
rence will give us all the details about him to-day.” 

After having interpreted every expression of the 
letter in a similar strain, Natalie succeeded in im- 
pressing the countess with the belief at first that it 
was good, then that it was exceeding good, excel- 
lent, until it finally became to her a source of con- 
solation. The outcome of it was that immediately 
after dinner they began to make hurried prepara- 
tions for their departure on the evening of the 
same day, and without the slightest loss of time. 

The mother and daughter were both fully con- 
vinced that they would succeed in inducing Julian 
to return home, his substitute being ready to take 
his place in the regiment. 

The girl proceeded in hurried haste to prepare 
Julian’s trunk, and in an incredibly brief space had 


Ii6 The Thintcr o-^ the Alps. 

it full of a miilLitude of precious fal-dals. In the 
midst of their preparations Don Egidio arrived. 
They handed him Julian’s letter to read. He was 
delighted to find his assertions anent his search in 
Savigliano confirmed ; and, by a series of adroit 
remarks, he made Leonie believe the letter a verit- 
able treasure. 

The countess had recovered her usual calmness 
and serenity, and requested the canon to tell her 
frankly if he believed that her son was sincerely re- 
pentant. 

^^Do you think he would be pleased to see me ? ” 
she asked in a half-doubtful tone. Would he 
yield to my wishes ? Could he be persuaded that, 
instead of disliking him, I would, on the contrary, 
die for him ? I would not, under any circum- 
stances, bring his sister with me ; she is so young. 
I would leave her with my aunt till my return, 
and bring with me one of my waiting-maids ; but 
I fear that I can exercise no infiuence over him 
without the assistance of Natalie. I have been ad- 
vised by our chaplain to let her come with me.” 

“Certainly,” answered Don Egidio; “it were 
foolish not to do so. Meantime you may not be in 
the least troubled ; Julian will rush to your arms 
at your first appearance.” 

“ But may he not still harbor the idea that I no 
longer love him, and that I would no longer treat 
him as I should be expected to treat. my child ? ” 

“ Since you ask me the question,” the canon an- 
swered, “ T will answer you frankly, and tell you 
that I am under the impression that he entertains 


The Hunter of the Alps. 117 

a multitude of false ideas regarding you, but your 
sole presence will remedy all that.” 

What false ideas do 5^011 speak of ? ” 

Well^ among other things, he complained a 
dozen times, notwithstanding his marked reserve 
when in my presence, that during the past winter, 
from the month of December, he had fallen into 
disfavor with you, and that for no conceivable 
reason. He likewise upbraided you for having 
calumniated him in the presence of his Uncle James, 
who in consequence lectured him severely — a cir- 
cumstance which above all others seemed to wound 
his feelings. He reiterated perpetually that he was 
innocent, and there can be no doubt that he suf- 
fered the most exquisite agony from your severe 
conduct towards him.” 

But I had to act severely with him ; my con- 
science compelled me to do so. You surely know 
me well enough to believe that I could not act 
harshly with my beloved child without any reason 
whatsoever.” 

do not mean to say that you did so without 
reason, by any means ; but I am convinced that you 
have brought him up afier your own manner of 
thinking, one moment lavishing on him the most 
foolish kindness, the next moment treating him 
with unnecessary severity — a course of conduct 
which doubtless extinguished in his heart the ex- 
cessive confidence he placed in you.” 

You do me a grave injustice in so thinking, 
iny dear canon. I do not think it possible that a 
mother could love her son more intensely than I 


ii8 The Hunter of the Alps, 

love Julian, and he knows it fully as well as I do. 
But I have to act for him, too^ in the quality of fa- 
ther. That I have betimes been somewhat exact- 
ing I do not pretend to deny, but to such a degree 
as to compel hini to lose confidence in me I do most 
indignantly deny. Ifc is, indeed, but too true that 
during the past winter I have committed a few 
grave errors. I had no right, I admit to deprive 
him of his ponies, iu which he prided himself so 
much, neither was I justified in acting toward him 
for a term of three weeks in so rigorous a manner. 
I see it all now ; the completest victory a mother 
can achieve is that which is won by love. More 
yet do I reproach myself for deliberately humiliat- 
ing him in the presence of a large company, and I 
also did wrong in not going to his room and mak- 
ing reparation for my hasty action. Behold my 
faults ; I deeply regret them, and hope I have ex- 
piated them by a v/hole month of a living death. 
A false and exaggerated idea of the dignity of a 
mother, my pretensions, a touch of vanity, my im- 
petuous temperament — the e it was that drovi». 
Julian from home. I acknowledge it with poig- 
nant grief, and I would now give up even my life 
to undo what has occurred. But, apropos of the 
month of December, I must assure you that you 
are in error. I punished him inasmuch as my con- 
science impelled me to do so ; I would have felt 
that I did not perform my duty had I not on that 
occasion acted sternly with him.” 

But may I take the liberty of asking you of 
what ofience was the boy guilty ?” 


The Hunter of the Alps. 119 

‘^You will, I trust, excuse me if I decline to an- 
swer (hat quesdon. I may assure yon, however, 
that it was not by any means a question of an of- 
fence committed, but of a serious danger both 
.for his soul and his honor — a danger wherein he 
had fallen, and from which I determined to save 
him. And I did so. His uncle and tutor, having 
been apprised of the condition of affairs by me, 
flew into a violent passion ; but I inteiqjGsed and 
distinctly informed him that there was no necessity 
for his interfering in the matter at all ; that I would 
punish my son and save him from the danger in 
question, but that I did not want it to engage his 
attention in the least, as I knew well his violent 
temper. It were impossible for you to conceive 
the pain it caused me to be compelled to withdraw 
from Julian the marks of affection I was in the 
habit of showing him, while I sought in secret to 
extricate him from the perils that threatened him. 
Scarce were these dangers removed than I treated 
him with my wonted tenderness and affection, but 
he then persisted in treating me with cold indiffer- 
ence, and even evinced toward me a spirit of resent- 
ment. In turn I met his studied indifference with 
needless severity, and you know the consequences.” 

At this juncture Don Egidio observed that the 
countess grew visibly agitated, and he therefore 
changed the subject of the conversation as speedily 
as possible. After a few moments spent in talking 
of generalities of one or another sort, and wishing 
success to the countess and Natalie in their jour- 
ney, he took his leave. 


120 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


The hour fixed on for starting was five o’clock in 
the afternoon. The carriage was ready, the pass- 
ports procured, everything in order. The countess 
was in possession of a large number of commenda- 
tory letters to influential parties in Turin. They 
were to dine previous to their departure, and now 
but awaited the arrival of Count James, who was 
one of the invited guests. Suddenly the count ap- 
peared, and in a state of nervous excitement drew 
forth a paper and exclaimed : 

The blow has been struck at last ! Austria 
issued her ultimatum yesterday, the French crossed 
the Alps to-day, and to-morrow will be on Ihe 
plains of Piedmont.” 

“ 0 Heaven ! has war broken out ? ” exclaimed 
the countess, as she stood motionless as a statue of 
distress. 

Yes, war has broken otit,” replied the count. 

“ And Julian ?” 

‘‘ You cannot find him now. At least you should 
have to go to look for him on the battle-ground of 
three great armies.” 

And how can my son be saved ?” 

‘‘I will think over it and tell you some other 
time what is best to be done.” 

Ah ! count, it is easily seen that you have not 
a mother’s heart. I will go at once, and if he be 
slain it will be in my arms.” 

^^No, no, it were an impossible experiment now. 
And as to Natalie I will not permit her to go. I 
am her legal guardian.” 

The countess was desirous of responding, but ut- 


The Hunter of the Alps, 121 

terancc failed her. She remained petrified, with- 
out movement, without power of reflection, as one 
suddenly struck by madness ; then, flinging herself 
upon her daughter, she strained her with in- 
tense force against her heaving breast, as though 
she would defend her from the attack of some per- 
fidious enemy ; she cast a withering glance at the 
count, but at the instant of its being launched 
forth it paled and she fell inanimate upon a couch. 



CHAPTER XVL 


WAE, 

The direful news was bufc too true. At the mo- 
ment when the hopes of peace seemed to bud with 
the flowers of spring the Austrian Government is- 
sued a warlike manifesto. Though after much 
hesitation, it picked up the gauntlet of defiance 
flung down in its path, swooped down on Turin 
with eagle-like velocity, and let burst over more 
than half of the Peninsula all the fury and borrors 
of war. Over Easter Sunday, a day of Christian re- 
joicing, a gloom was cast by the unwelcome news 
which spread from city to city on the wings of 
electricity. 

To many a mother, many a wife, that electric 
spark was a messenger of unutterable woe ; it was 
the herald of many a deep sigh and bitter tear. 
The unhappy Countess Lconie was not alone in her 
grief that day. Thousands of other mothers, too, 
trembled at the dreadful intelligence, and like her 
writhed in the agony of despair. They were left to 
deplore the swift and terrible death of those whom 
they most dearly cherished. 

In vain the inspirers of the revolution intone 
their joyous canticles ancnt the magnanimity and 
123 


The Hunter of the Alps, 123 

heroism of the Italian women, comparing them to 
the heroines of Sparta, and proclaiming that they 
had, almost to a unit, given up with joy their 
husbands and sons for the regeneration of Italy. 
Such assertions are unmitigated lies ! True, they 
were heard throughout our provinces, but they 
were drowned amid the funeral flash of the rifle ; 
but they were intermingled with maledictions, and 
regarded throughout as an atrocious attack on do- 
mestic happiness. Then, as now, an infinite mul- 
titude of far-seeing and pious souls easily foresaw 
the terrible results which must necessarily follow 
from that ill-starred war. It was pretended that the 
war was entered on to vindicate the freedom of an op- 
j)ressed nationality ; but every day rendered it more 
conspicuously evident that that war, which Occasion- 
ed such a fearful loss of young and generous blood, 
was not designed to bestow liberty on all. All 
thinking men clearly understood, and all honest 
minds plainly foresaw, that these boasts were but 
froth ; that beneath the mask of public freedom 
was hidden abject slavery ; that under the cloak of 
national happiness would be concealed the most in- 
famous exploitation of the people and national con- 
quest ; that thrones w’ould be subverted, altars 
profaned, the most sacred laws of God and man 
ruthlessly violated in proclaiming the resurrection 
of Italy ; that, in short, crime would follow on the 
heels of crime till the patrimony of St. Peter itself 
would be attacked. 

With a foreknowledge of these consequences, 
how could, we ask, parents .‘ind friends sanction 


124 


The Himter of the Alps, 


the flight or abduction of their dearest kin, separate 
themselves from them with joy, and, for such a 
cause, send them forth to the field of slaughter ? 

We unhesitatingly aver that, if there existed 
mothers who attained such a height of folly, they 
were singularly few, and they soon wept bitter 
tears in vain over their mistaken blindness. 

But to return. 

On the right bank of the Po, between Turin and 
Casal, close to the confluence of the Dora Baltea, is 
situate a charming group of small villages, scat- 
tered over a luxuriant and smiling plain. These 
villages, overlooking the banks of the river and 
the adjacent highways, offer admirable outposts for 
the sub-alpine capital, and preserve it from a sud- 
den invasion from Lombardy. On the evening of 
Easter Sunday G-aribaldi summoned by telegraph 
two of the three regiments of the Chasseurs of the 
Alps to occupy these villages. Julian and Maso 
were hurried in all haste from Turin to the station 
of Chivasso, whence they immediately set forth on 
march to the places assigned them by the general. 
He himself led the Second Chasseurs into the small 
village of Brozolo, near the villa of Eadicati, where 
his headquarters were established. 

At noon on the 30th April Julian was seated 
alone before a small table in one of the most 
fashionable restaurants in town. Eeclining on his 
chair, puffing his cigarette with easy nonchalance, 
his helmet down on his eyes, and a newspaper in his 
hand, he was reading quietly. His countenance 
wore an expression of unmistakably bad humor. 


125 


The Hunter of the Alps. 

Instead of the amiable, candid-looking boy,, it was 
now the sullen and sour-faced soldier. 

From time to time he raised up his helmet, and 
his large, lustrous, luminous eyes scintillated with 
mingled passion and disdain. Betimes he literally 
trembled, and seemed the prey of deepest anger, 
which gave him neither truce nor repose. His 
heart was the home of rage ; another cause had 
excited his haughty spirit. 

For a long time he wore this unprepossessing 
countenance, when all at once two of his com- 
rades abruptly entered the hall. One of them was 
a native of Bergamo, stout-limbed and bald-headed. 
He was followed by a Perugian, a dry, grizzled, 
limping little object, his head unkempt and his 
hair uncut, both looking as if they would form an 
admirable pair for the guard of Pontius Pilate. 
Seeing Julian, they came and sat down opposite 
him, and after eyeing him for a moment with a 
sort of cavalier air, the Perugian observed : 

ril wager that young fellow feels badly put out 
because he can find no intimation in that journal of 
the Austrians having passed the Tessine.’^ 

‘‘Put out about what?” answered Julian in a 
resolute voice, as he placed the journal on the 
table. 

“ Why, my boy, you seem not to be in the best 
of humor just now. We are just after coming 
from headquarters, and are in a position to give you 
some news that we think will brighten you up. 
A messenger has just inforrned Garibaldi that 
Giulay crossed the Piedmont frontier last evening. 


126 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


and that lie is marching in full force against us. 
Did you know that ? ” 

^‘No !” answered Julian, in simulating a look 
of surprise. 

Pshaw ! I said so long ago,” replied the other 
with a supercilious air. ‘‘These gallant exquisites 
of ours are eager to flesh their steel in the Croats.” 

“ Just as we did to the French at the siege of 
Rome in 1849,” added the Bergamascian. “ I my- 
self have put Tiors du combat half a dozen of 
those scoundrels who were senseless enough to 
fight against fate. To-day it is the turn of the 
Austrians, and I guarantee we’ll make short work 
of them and show no mercy ! ” 

In listening to this senseless and braggart con- 
versation Julian was filled with profound disgust, 
lie rose from his seat and started for the door, 
when a countryman who had heard the conversa- 
tion anent the Austrians quit his seat near by, and 
approached to enquire more minutely concerning 
the news. 

“Yes, it is true — true as your own existence,” 
continued the Bergamascian. “We ourselves have 
read the despatch. They have marched on Novara 
and now threaten Yercelli.” 

“ Lord ! if they pass Gasai they will be down on 
us before two days,” exclaimed the countryman, 
tremulous with fear. 

“ Balderdash I here in two days ! You reckon 
without your host. Do you not take into account 
the sixty thousand Piedmontese who are stationed 
between Alessandria and Turin ? Do you not 


127 


The Hunter of the Alps. 

know that more than fifty thousand Frenchmen 
have already passed Mont Cenis, and that thousands 
of them arrive hourly at Genoa, and in the Rivera ? 
Do you suppose that these Austrians have wings to 
fly over these opposing armies ? ” 

But how many of them are there — a million 
asked the simple-minded peasant. 

Million the deuce ! If they can muster two 
hundred thousand men they will do their ut- 
most.” 

‘‘ But,” urged the peasant, is it not quite pos- 
sible that they may press on to Turin before the 
French can reach there to repulse them ? I assure 
you they can.” 

Let them try it ! ” responded the Bergamas- 
cian. ‘‘ It would be no cause of surprise to see the 
French let the Italians lose Turin ! They are a peo- 
ple not to be trusted. Did they not steal Rome 
from us, and is not that enough ?” 

The French will do whatsoever we want them,” 
answered the Perugian, as he pompously stroked 
his beard. 

It seems you have been at Rome ; you are, then, 
veterans of Garibaldi ?” asked the peasant. 

Yes, honorable veterans,” answered the Berga- 
mascian. I was with him at Montevideo ; my 
companion here enlisted in his ranks in 1848 to 
take part in the war of Lombardy. We fought 
with Garibaldi in all his encounters with the Aus- 
trians on the Great Lake ; we defended Rome dur- 
ing the siege, and disposed in a summary manner 
of thousands of Frenchmen and priests. Behold ! ” 


128 The Hunter of the Alps, 

ho exclaimed, in haring his brawny breast, ^^five 
wounds, and I hear three more besides.’^ 

^‘And think you that on this occasion you will 
go to Eome ? ” 

Do you entertain any doubts regarding it ? ” 
answered the Perugian. There we have shed our 
blood, and there we go to look for vengeance. The 
republic shall yet rise from its tomb ; thè Tiber 
thirsts for priestly blood, and yearns to engulf the 
monks', cardinals, and all the other riff-raff of the 
Papacy I The bones of our martyrs by the gate 
of St. Pancrace and of Pamfili leap within the tomb 
for vengeance.” 

But the French, thank God ! are too devoted to 
the Pope ; they will not let him fall into the hands 
of his enemies.” 

What do you mean by your ' thank God,’ you 
bigoted old ignoramus ! ” exclaimed the native of 
Bergamo, as he launched at him a look of ineffable 
disdain. Do you know what our ^ thank God ’ 
is ? It is Garibaldi and the rifle ; we know no 
other I ” 

Julian, who was listening to this impious conver- 
sation, was instinctively struck with horror. Just 
at this stage of the discourse he was tapped on the 
shoulder, and on turning around found himself in 
the presence of a sergeant, who asked : 

Where is that handsome youth who is all the 
time with you ?” 

Maso, you mean. I couldn’t say where he is 
just now.” 

‘‘ No, that’s not it ; his name must be Thomas,” 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


129 


replied tlie sergeant, as he looked at the superscrip- 
tion of a letter he held in his hand. 

Oh ! it is all the same. What do you want with 
him ? I will see him in a short time.’’ 

“ I wish you to hand him this telegram, which 
arrived from Savigliano on Monday morning, im- 
mediately after the regiment had started for Chivas* 
so. Having been detained for some time on .special 
business, I was given it with instructions to deliver 
it to him. It is a little late, of course, but better 
late than never.” 

Julian "viewed the address with mingled feelings 
of curiosity and pleasure, and immediately rushed 
to the barrack-rooms in search of his comrade. 

Since he had given up hope of hearing from his 
sister he had become a prey to melamcholy and de- 
spair. The declaration of war, the advance of the 
enemy, and the anticipation of approaching death 
caused him the most unspeakable anguish of heart, 
and deprived him of every sentiment of happiness. 
He was convinced that his mother had prevented 
Natalie from answering his letter, and that, to add 
still more to his punishment, she had deprived him 
of all consolation, news from home, and pecuniary 
assistance — things which would not be refused to a 
bandit, were he in a similar condition. He ima- 
gined himself lying among the fallen on the battle- 
field, dying without the least assistance, comfort, 
and even without the sympathy of liis friends. So 
heavily did this thought weigh on his soul that it 
was by an extreme effort he could repress his out- 
spoken indignation toward his mother. 


130 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


Maso spent several hours in the endeavor to con- 
sole him. He sought to impress on him unceas- 
ingly that he should write a second letter, addressed 
directly to his mother. Finally he succeeded in 
inducing him to do so. In the morning Julian 
had penned a long letter, which, before posting, he 
submitted to his friend. But the latter found it 
so bitter and bristling with every form of insolence 
that he indignantly tore it into shreds, and flung 
them in Julian’s face. 

But that he could not offend so generous a com- 
panion, Julian would have immediately resented 
the act. He rose sullenly, and, without speaking a 
word, proceeded to the café. We have already seen 
the grim, ill-humored countenance he presented 
there. 




CHAPTER XVIL 

THE TELEGRAM. 

Maso bad no sooner perceived Julian than he 
rushed forward to meet him, and apologized, in the 
most obsequious manner, for his hasty action in 
tearing up his letter, when Julian drew from his 
pocket the despatch and handed to him with an air 
of ill-concealed carelessness. 

‘‘ Here is a second gift ; your parents will make 
you a spoilt boy yet. A telegram from home.” 

^‘For me?” exclaimed Maso. ‘‘Yes, sure 
enough.” 

He took the despatch, tore it open, and read it ; 
while Julian, whose whole soul seemed concentrated 
on his friend, saw a smile of joy break over his 
countenance. 

“ My dear Julian, this is an agreeable surprise 
for you ; it is from your mother. Here it is !” 

Suffice it to observe that Julian now presented a 
renewal of the scene which occurred between the 
Countess Leonie and Natalie when the latter re- 
ceived Julian’s second letter. He stood for a mo- 
ment as if dazed, moveless, and overcome by emo- 
tion ; then, seating himself beside his friend, pro- 
ceeded to read the precious mis-ive. 

131 


132 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


My mother !” he muttered to himself, as he 
gazed at the lines before him; ^^my mother! 1 
never expected that. Maso, I wonder if this is 
genuine.” 

‘^Do you not see the signature ?” 

Maso, read it for me.” 

The latter took the slip of paper and read as fol- 
lows: 

April 24, 1859, 1 p.m. ^ 
Received just now your letter of the 17th. I 
am going to find you and bring you home, if pos- 
sible. I send you an order on the Bank of Turin 
for two thousand francs. Your sister is well, and 
sends you her kindest regards and love. Write 
always, and never cease to think of your mother, 
who now sends you the most heartfelt expressions 
of her love. Countess Leonie.” 

'‘Well, will that satisfy you ?” demanded Maso, 
after having read it two or throe timos, as he hand- 
ed to Julian. 

The latter made no reply, blushed deeply, but 
accepted the letter with convulsive grasp. 

"Did I not always tell you, my dear Julian, that 
you have within your bosom an excellent heart, 
and that, notwithstanding all you say, you yet 
dearly love your mother ? ” 

"She sends me her love,” replied Julian, as he 
gazed on his friend, half in doubt, half in earnest 
— " she sends me her love after having passed four 
months without speaking a tender word to her. 
She sends me her love — mo, who- looked upon her 
as an enemy. I can scarce believe it possible — I 


The Hujitcr of the Alps. 133 

who fled from home ; who in writing Natalie 
scarce deigned to refer to her ; who even dubbed 
her a tyrannical mother. What have I since done 
.to merit this expression of her love? I almost 
doubt of this thing being genuine.” 

‘‘ You do ? Well, I should like to know who else 
than your mother would send you a gift of two 
thousand francs ? That, as you know, is no trifle.” 

‘‘ It is not of the two thousand I think, but of 
her sending me the expression of her love ; that’s 
what puzzles me.” 

‘^Why, because you are her child — that’s all. 
What’s the matter with you ?” 

I hardly know.” 

Come, banish all such thoughts from your head 
for the time, and let us have a promenade.” 

No, Maso ; let me alone. Let me first try to 
solve this apparently inexplicable mystery. Per- 
haps it is naught else than a tender artifice of 
Natalie. She has grieved so since I quarrelled 
w'ith my mother. May not this be a ruse devised 
by ber, designing to induce me to return home ?” 

“But who could have given her the two thou- 
sand francs ?” 

“You are right; it is, of course, my mother.” 

“ And what more would you want her to do ? ” 

“I know not ; I cannot understand why she has 
done so much.” 

“ Simply because she loves you ?” 

“Notatali; such things cost nothing whatso- 
ever to a mother’s heart. Have you forgotten all 
the evidences of tenderness that mine manifested 


134 • Hunter of the Alps, 

for me in her letter? Still, I have clone her a grave 
injustice.” 

“ Not at all ; you have not offended your mother 
as I have mine. She says she loves me still. Maso, 
what shall I do ? ” 

I’ll tell you. Sit down and write an answer, 
but one worthy of your head and heart. We shall 
talk further in connection with it by and by. Put 
your heart at ease first. What think you of my 
advice ?” 

Julian followed the counsel of his friend, calmed 
his troubled thoughts, and walked leisurely toward 
the village in company with his friend. 

Oh ! had the Countess Leonie been present at 
that moment. How she would have rejoiced at 
the return of her boy, whom she had conquered 
solely by the power of love. How soon she would 
feel convinced that the completest victory of a 
mother consists in self-denial ! But no ; she was 
not there; she was not aware of the marvellous 
change that one kind word from her had operated 
on the heart of J ulian. 

Julian had not a moment of time to answer the 
letter, as he was immediately ordered out on picket 
duty. On the following evening he had to march 
with his brigade toward Ponte-Stura, where the en- 
tire division of General Cialdini were encamped 
with the design of blocking the road to Turin on 
the advancing Austrians. These latter, who, for 
some inexplicable reason, had postponed the inva- 
sion of Sardinian territory for two whole days, at a 
time when every moment was so precious, overran 


135 


The Hunter of the Alps. 

Lomellina with such celerity that one would almost 
be induced to believe that they wished to make up 
for lost time and march directly on the capital. 
In fact, while the Piedmontese troops concentrated 
behind the fortifications of Alessandria, abandon- 
ing the entire sway of country to the enemy as far 
as Sesia ; at the moment when the French corps 
under the command of Marshals Canrobert and 
Baraguey-d’Hilliers were almost afraid to set foot 
in Genoa and Susa, the Austrian forces under com- 
mand of Marshal Giulay moved down in over- 
whelming force on the line extending from Casal 
to Bassiguano. Once having crossed the line, this 
powerful army could march on Turin without en- 
countering more difficulties than if on military 
parade. 

It were not easy to convey the deep regret that 
Julian felt at the thoughts of having to march, 
in all probability, to the battle-field on the follow- 
ing day. Till now he had never feared death. 
And as if to remind him anew of his mother’s love, 
he had received on the same day. May 1, from 
his banker in Ponte-Stura, the two thousand francs 
in bank-bills addressed to Maso. But for that his 
joy were inexpressible. He divided his money with 
Maso, who hardly knew himself on finding himself 
in possession of a thousand francs., Hover before 
did either possess such a sum. And now that the 
two deluded youths almost imagined themselves to 
be Kothschilds, now that they felt a momentary 
peace of mind, now that they dreamed of naught 
else than of returning home and making amends 


136 


The Hunter of the. Alps, 

for the freak they had committed, they saw them- 
selves exposed, almost without a moment’s warning, 
to the Austrian cannon and the lances of the 
TJlans ! Oh ! how true is the proverb, ^^He who 
sins in haste repents at leisure.” 




CHAPTER XVIII. 

rOUEVlERES. 

The noble city of Lyons is situate on the right 
bank of the river Saone. On the south of this 
rich and populous community a chain of hills, 
perfect sierra, well settled and carefully cultivat- 
ed, start up, and in their circuitous course form a 
perfect amphitheatre having in its enclosure a 
vast and beautiful demesne. A temple stands in 
the centre of a grove on the crest of the largest of 
these beautiful hillocks at the further extremity of 
the circle. Its ancient and ivy-grown walls are 
mouldering to decay, and stand out in bold con- 
trast with the elegant villas and numerous gardens 
around, which fill the atmosphere with the odor of 
their flowers. The white Byzantine spire rising so 
gracefully on the sacred edifice makes it visible 
from a very great distance. It is mounted with 
a colossal statue in gilt bronze of the Holy Virgin, 
which shines like a sunbeam in the pure atmo- 
sphere of the place. This statue, which is a mas- 
terpiece of its kind, faces the east, and stands ever 
with outstretched arms towards the city, like the 
fond mother inviting the embrace of a darling 
child. 


137 


138 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


This ancient shrine is named after the hill of 
Fourviòres on which it stands. The sanctuary of 
Our Lady of Eourvières is the pride of the Catho- 
lics of Lyons. It is to them, they say, a refuge, a 
very religious citadel. It is perhaps the most po- 
pular of all the various resorts of devout pilgrimage 
in France. Thousands of pilgrims flock daily to 
pay their untiring devotions under the shadow of 
its holy walls. They come from the most remote 
parts of the country to execute a vow or seek a 
favor, to ask for a divine grace or out of mere de- 
votion. There are many approaches to the Sacred 
Hill from the city, but the easiest and at the 
same time the most agreeable ascent is that on the 
garden side, the favorite road, branching off at the 
foot of the slope into a number of well-shaded 
paths, all striking out as from a certain point and 
assuming an independent course, yet concentric 
with each other, until they again meet on the very 
threshold of the sacred and long-desired shrine of 
the Virgin. 

One day, about noontime, when it was as yet 
early in the month of May, a certain group of pil- 
grims — one of the many that were then making 
the slow ascent of the mountain — appeared re- 
markable by their frequently stopping as if for a 
rest as well as to view the scenery around them. 
One in particular of this party — in fact, the one who 
led to these ever-recurring halts — was a young lady, 
who would turn at every step to look again and 
again at the beauteous Alpine landscape of the im- 
mense Lyonnese amphitheatre— Alps towering over 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


139 


Alps with a beauty and harmony, even in their ir- 
regularity, that resembled the wild sameness of the 
billows in the angry ocean. This young lady would 
in her enthusiasm never tire of pointing out some 
new feature in the scene. A gentleman with two 
ladies (one of them in deep mourning) were 
the principal figures in the group, whose pro- 
gress one was retarding by her eagerness to show 
up the scenic beauty of the country. Arrived at 
length at the shrine, the young lady, as she stood 
on the terrace at the rear of the sanctuary, was lost 
as one in an ecstasy at the beauty of a scene that is 
beyond doubt unrivalled by any in Europe. The 
circling and towering Alps that walled them in 
from that elevated point were visible from their 
base to the summit of their abrupt slopes, crowned, 
as it were, with eternal snow. 

She lowered her sunshade and contemplated the 
uneven and craggy sierras of rocks and glaciers, 
exclaiming suddenly to the gentleman of the 
party : 

Now, at what point exactly shall we meet them 
to-morrow ?” 

The gentleman’s only reply was a smile. 

The lady in mourning made a sign to her youth- 
ful companion, and all entered the sacred abode in 
silence. 

Who composed this group ? The reader need 
scarcely ask. He knows two at least of the num- 
ber: the Countess Leonie, Julian’s mother, and 
Natalie, his young sister, who could not rid herself 
of the idea that her brother, in his duty as Hunter 


140 


The Hìinter of the Alps, 


of the Alps, must he, to a certainty, quartered in 
some rocky defile in the vicinity. She, in fact, 
thought that by examining with a little care, even 
from where she stood, the various gorges and jut- 
ting prominences in the landscape around, she 
might succeed in locating the very position in which 
his company lay. 

But to what are we to attribute this unexpected 
apparition of the countess and her daughter in the 
middle of France and so far away from Emilia, 
where we left them ? 

When we left them on the afternoon of Easter 
Sunday the sudden declaration of war had 
just been proclaimed and caused them to 
suspend their preparations for the journey. 
Leonie, when her senses returned to her, threw 
herself on her knees before the tutor of her chil- 
dren. She besought him to save himself, to find 
out where her child, Julian, was, and to restore 
him to her at any cost. The good count, who 
loved tenderly his nephew and niece, yet did not 
want to expose Natalie in a country where the an- 
archy and lawlessness of camp life were dominant. 
He besought Leonie not to give way to her feelings. 
He suggested to her to send a telegram to Julian, 
and at the same time to mail him a money order on 
her Turin banker. It was a small solace to her 
grief. Yet this counsel acted really as a solace. 
The telegram was sent, and he himself wrote to the 
banker. 

They dined but sparely that day. They then 
took counsel of each other as to the steps their po- 


The Hunter of the Alps. 14 1 

sition demanded of them. Leonie insisted on the 
l)rcsence of Don Egidio in the family council. He 
was called. Many plans were proposed and dis- 
cussed. The count proposed to start out himself. 
True, he had the gout, and his body was by no 
means well ; besides, he had now an important law- 
suit about an inheritance that would fall eventual- 
ly to Julian. The affair would be decided in a 
week from that day. Could not Florence be sent ? 
Leonie would not agree to that. Florence was a 
good, faithful domestic ; he was economical and 
active, but very timorous. She would go herself 
with Natalie. But the count would not hear of 
this. He saw nothing but military lawlessness and 
carnage before them. Don Egidio then suggested 
the way to Marseilles as the safest and surest route. 
He could not realize the exaggerated fears of the 
count. The countess could from Marseilles go to 
Turin by Lyons and Mont Cenis in the rear of the 
French army, which was then entering Italy along 
that way. There would be no danger comparative- 
ly on this route of travel, since on the first alarm 
they could take refuge in Dauphiny and Savoy. 
This plan of the good canon, which he demonstrat- 
ed geographically on the map, satisfied the uncle of 
Natalie. He now agreed to allow her to go with 
Leonie, if they were accompanied by her maid and 
Florence. This brave fellow was worth his weight 
in gold. He was the very soul of punctiliousness, 
watchfulness, and economy. Leonie now was be- 
yond herself with a joyful satisfaction that that dif- 
ficulty was set at rest. They completed their ar- 


142 The Hunter of the Alps. 

rangements and seb oub on Easter Monday. They 
took the road for Leghorn. 

By a slight mishap they missed a French steam- 
er which sailed from that port almost immediately 
after their arrival. They were accordingly detain- 
ed for some time at Leghorn, where the countess 
heard of the revolution at Florence and the flight 
of the grand duke. She was compelled to witness 
the rejoicings of the mob who in Leghorn celebrat- 
ed that event, but she was in a measure consoled 
by the intelligence that the Austrians had not as 
yet invaded Piedmont. It was not till the 30ih 
of June, while travelling from Genoa, that she 
heard they had crossed the Tessine. It is impos- 
sible to describe the pain caused her by this unto- 
ward news. Impatient of delay, she wished to has- 
ten to Turin by rail, but her friends vehemently 
discountenanced the design, and told her that inali 
probability the railway communications were cut 
by the Piedmontese, and that the Austrians occu- 
pied the route between Novi and Alessandria. 

Florence likewise opposed the idea of the count- 
ess in this regard. She wished to disembark at 
Genoa, were it for naught else than to learn the 
latest war news ; but her daughter, who w^as suffer- 
ing from a severe attack of illness, prevented her 
from so doing. 

The journey to Marseilles was rough- and dis- 
agreeable, and when Ea'alie arrived at Joliette she 
was suffering intensely, ^n Italian doctor who 
was summoned to the hotel to see her found her in 
such a critical condition that he ordered her mother 


The Hunter of the Alps. 143 

imperatively to give her two clays’ undisturbed rest. 
Thougli burning with impatience to proceed to 
Mont Cenis, the countess was obliged to submit to 
the prescriptions of the physician and delay a cou- 
ple of days. At the end of that time Natalie had 
sufficiently recovered to continue her journey, 
though the orders of her medical adviser were that 
she should rest for one day at Lyons and one at 
Chambery before undertaking the passage of Mont 
Cenis, which is cold and very fatiguing. Natalie 
suffered more keenly from these delays than even 
her mother. She prayed, insisted, implored to be 
allowed to proceed immediately, regardless of con- 
sequences. 

I am quite well,” she exclaimed ; let us not 
lose time so precious, but proceed at once.” 

But her pleadings were idle. Florence, who in 
the present instance had been invested with full 
authority by the Cou-nt James, was inexorable in 
his refusal. 

We must follow out the prescriptions of the 
doctor,” he said with an air of pompous ostentation. 
‘‘ The young count is no doubt precious, but our 
little countess is none the less so. We must avoid 
even the semblance of danger.” 

Lconie yielded to his orders, though her heart 
was overwhelmed with grief. She wished to avail 
herself of the delay at Lyons to make a pilgrimage 
to the shrine of Fourvieres. In the soft and smil- 
ing springtime this short journey could not but be 
delightful, and the countess yielded to the impor- 


144 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


tuiiities of Natalie to accompany her mother to the 
venerated sanctuary. 

The girl prayed with fervent piety. Fearing 
lest she might tax her strength beyond measure by 
remaining on her knees, Leonie ordered her to be 
seated. Natalie obeyed, but the countess sopn ob- 
served that she was overcome with emotion and 
weeping bitterly. She requested her to endeavor 
to appease her emotion, especially in so holy a spot. 
After remaining absorbed in prayer for a consider- 
able lime, they rose to leave the church, when Na- 
talie suddenly perceived, among the countless ex- 
voto offerings which covered the walls of the sacred 
edifice, a great number of pictures representing 
soldiers who were saved from inevitable death 
through the interposition of the Queen of- Heaven. 
She requested her mother accordingly to have a 
certain number of Masses offered up for Julian 
before the miraculous image of the Madonna. The 
countess, acting on the suggestion, gave the neces- 
sary alms, and, taking from her finger a ring set 
with the most precious brilliants, presented it to 
one of the sextons wherewith to adorn the sacred 
image. 

The journey by rail from Lyons to Chambery 
was exceedingly delightful. They arrived at the 
latter city late in the evening, and engaged rooms 
in one of the most fashionable hotels. Florence 
looked on in amazement at the countless trains of 
from eighty to a hundred carriages as they whirled 
past, laden with troops, artillery, provision wag- 
ous. ammunition, and military baggage of every 


The Hunter of the Alps. 145 

description. With all the pretension imaginable 
he explained in minutest detail all he saw and met 
to Natalie. The simple child was astonished as she 
listened to the pompous rhodomontade of the 
steward, who put on more airs than a Turenne or 
Napoleon. Happily the countess had fallen in 
with the wife of a colonel, with whom she entered 
into conversation in French, which language she 
spoke with almost vernacular elegance and purity ; 
and was thus saved from being wearied to death by 
the bellicose declamation of Florence. 

Our travellers were to cross Mount Cenis on the 
following morning, after a brief delay at Lansle- 
burg. Leonie, who had risen early to assist at 
Mass and make preparations for the journey, enter- 
ed Natalie’s room about seven o’clock, and found 
her engaged in her morning devotions. On seeing 
her the countess drew back in affright. 

‘‘ What is the matter with you, my dear ?” she 
exclaimed. '^You look like death! Have you 
grown worse ? You look so pale and feverish !” 

Natalie approached her, and answered with a 
gentle smile : 

Oh ! it is nothing. Let us start immediately 
for Julian, that I may at least see him before I die ! 

Before you die !'” exclaimed the countess in 
horror. Why do you use such an expression ? 
why entertain such ideas ? ” she continued, as she 
passionately pressed her daughter to her bosom. 

The girl trembled in her arms. Disengaging 
herself from her mother’s embrace, she led her aside, 
and said in trembling accents : 


146 The Hunter of the Alps, 

For mercy’s sake do not tell Florence that I 
am ill ; did he know it, ho would compel us to re- 
main here another day or two. I am at least well 
enough to go to Turin. When we shall have found 
Julian I can then die content.” 

Do not make use of such language, I implore 
.you ! You will then he content to die ? Do 
not let me ever hear you say anything of the kind 
again !” 

^‘Well, let us hurry ourselves, "at all events; I 
fear we shall not arrive in time. I repeat, I wish to 
see my brother before I die.” 

^^Did I not ask you to cease talking such 
folly ?” 

Bùt it. may come to pass that this folly will 
be realized. Yesterday, at the shrine of Fourvières, 
I supplicated the Blessed Virgin for a favor, and I 
am confident she heard my prayer.” 

The countess was for the moment unable to 
make answer ; she trembled and grew deadly pale. 
A prey to fear and uncertainty, she looked in the 
face of her daughter, as if she dreaded hearing any 
more from her in relation to the subject. ’ Heaving 
a deep sigh, she asked to be allowed to retire to her 
room. 

The prayers and supplications of Natalie were in 
vain. The tender girl was suddenly seized with a 
treacherous attack of fever. Florence hastened to 
bring a physician, and Natalie had to be resigned. 
The countess seated herself at the bedside of her 
daughter, and evéry moment almost overwhelmed 
her with the most tender and passionate caresses. 


The Hunter of the Alps. 147 

Tell me, my dear,” asked Leonie, what favor, 
did you pray for yesterday at Fourvieres ? You 
should conceal nothing from your mother.” 

‘^Oli ! if the affair comes to pass, mother, you 
will learn too soon what it is; but meantime do 
not be -troubled on my account. Let us talk of my 
brother ; where do you think he may be at pre- 
sent?” 

^‘ISTo, my dear, we shall speak of nobody but 
you. Do not disobey your mother ; ans,wer my 
question,” replied Leonie in an imperious and re- 
solute tone. 

Well, then,” replied the girl, in timid and re- 
served accents, '‘I’ll tell you : I implored Our 
Ever-Blessed Lady to accept my life instead of 
Julian’s, if Heaven had ordained that he should 
fall in battle, and to restore him to you submissive 
and repentant.” 

"Ah ! foolish girl,” exclaimed Leonie, in an im- 
petuous tone, " do you not know these are no re- 
quests to implore of the Queen of Heaven ? Ketract 
on the spot what you were foolish enough to pray 
for. What you should have prayed for is that you 
should be spared to your mother, .and that Julian 
also should come home safe and uniujiired. You 
see the foolish act you have committed. To bring 
death as a favor ! Think you that the Mother of 
Sorrows, so tender, so compassionate, will not be 
able, through her interposition with her divine 
Son, to preserve Julian without your innocent life 
as a sacrifìcè ? You know I could never survive 
your death. I again repeat that you must retract 


148 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


what you prayed for in a foolish moment. Our 
Ever-Blessed Mother knows what it is to give up a 
dearly loved and only child. Pray to her now for 
the preservation of Julian as well as yourself.” 

‘‘But if one of us have to go, which of us 
would you select ? ” 

“Natalie, that is a kiglily improper question to 
ask me. I could not choose between either you or 
him. My very life is centred in you both. You 
are the pulse of my heart ; I live but for you alone ; 
the only choice I could make would be to go down 
in sorrow to the grave after either of you may be 
first taken from me. Ah ! how foolish you were 
in asking such a request as that.” 

The cljambermaid, at this juncture, announced 
the arrival of the physician — a pompous Savoyard, 
ostentatious, puffed up, pretentious, exceedingly 
polite, though somewhat brusque in his manner, 
lie spoke Italian with vernacular fluency. After 
having asked Natalie a series of questions, he ex- 
amined her pulse, and exclaimed somewhat ex- 
citedly : “ She is suffering from a severe attack of 
fever.” 

He was not aware that the countess was listening 
to him. As he spoke Leonie heaved a deep sigh, 
and asked in tearful accents if the malady would, 
in his. opinion, be fatal. 

As she spoke the countess seemed more the pic- 
ture of death than her daughter. The doctor as- 
sumed a careless and satisfied air. 

“It amounts to nothing,” he observed; “she ‘ 
will be all right presently.” 


The Hunter of the Alps. 149 

‘‘Bat if what you say should not come to 
pass ? ” 

“We shall see.” 

Whereupon he prescribed the most soothing me- 
dicines, and forthwith retired, leaving the discon- 
solate mother alone with her thoughts. 

“Ah I Julian,” she cried in her soliloquy, “ what 
grief you have caused me by your inconsiderate ac- 
tion.” 




CHAPTER XIX. 

OFF FOR TURIFT. 

The good doctor was riglit in his diagnosis. 
After three weeks Natalie’s fever, severe as it was 
at first, had almost entirely subsided. But though 
her sickness had passed away, she was, neverthe- 
less, so exhausted, so feeble, that she was scarce 
able to leave her sick-room. Still it was, as the 
doctor had justly remarked, but a sudden and pass- 
ing attack, though, while it lasted, dangerously se- 
vere. While prostrated, the countess had not for 
a moment deserted the pillow of her daughter, 
whose illness weighed with unspeakable heaviness 
on her heart. It was in truth heart-rending to 
witness the desolation of that tender mother, sub- 
jected to a double martyrdom, the fear of losing 
her daughter and the impossibility of saving her 
son ! 

Florence was in despair at the possibility of his 
young mistress dying at Chambery, notwithstand- 
ing all Jiis care and vigilance. He wept at the 
thought like a child ; so that the physician was 
obliged to compel him to quit the room in order 
160 


The -Hìintcr of the Alps. 15 1 

not to acid to tlie already almost intolerable grief 
of the countess. 

What a terrible day ! ” he exclaimed. As I 
have not lost my senses now, I never shall ! ’’ 

The doctor was warmly attached to Natalie. 
During her convalescence he watched by her un- 
ceasingly, and was unremitting in his attendance. 
During the sixteen days the girl was ill, Florence 
rendered untold service to the countess. In his 
youth he had acquired a smattering of French. 
He ferreted out every item of news, bought all the 
French and Piedmontese journals he could pro- 
cure, and consoled Leonie by assuring her the ru- 
mors of war were so much buncombe and balderdash. 
In the meantime Natalie bore up under her forced 
delay. So pleased was she with the good news that 
Florence always brought, that she was impatient 
whenever he left her bedside. 

She had a map of Italy spread out before her, 
whereon she studied, with unwearied industry, the 
movements of the three armies, taking precious 
good care to follow the lines occupied by the 
French, as in their strength consisted, in a great 
measure, Julian’s safety. Easily deceived as she 
was in this regard, her mother was still more so. 
To compensate Florence for his delicate attentions 
and assiduous care, Leonie always took occasion to 
read for him the praise she bestowed on him when 
writing to the Count James for his invaluable ser- 
vices ; whereupon the good man was so delighted 
that he could scarce contain himself. He was in- 
finitely more highly pleased with the praises thus 


152 The Hunter of the Alps, 

bestowed on Liin than by nil tlio 2)rcsents, rich as 
they were, which his generous mistress bestowed on 
him. 

The doctor, after mature deliberation, permitted 
Natalie on the sixteenth day to take a drive in the 
carriage and visit the cathedral. 

Notwithstanding the retraction already exacted 
from her by her mother, the generous abandon- 
ment of her own life to save her brother’s, and al- 
though the countess had already seen that the sin- 
cere and innocent sacrifice had not been accepted, 
she was,- nevertheless, desirous that she should re- 
new her retraction at the earliest opportunity in 
the grand cathedral. She likewise counselled her 
to implore the swift return of her brother, and to 
offer, in acknowledgment of her recovery, a pre- 
cious ex-voto, to be i)laced, with other rich offerings, 
in the sanctuary of Notre Dame in their native 
city. 

Natalie yielded all the more readily to her mo- 
ther’s desire as her confessor, a worthy priest, had 
assured her that certain heroic sacrifices should not 
be made on the impulse of the moment, but after 
mature deliberation and prudent counsel. 

The girl was soon restored to health, and on the 
morning of the 18th she was able to continue 
her journey to Lansleburg, where they remained 
for the night. On the following day they passed 
Mont Cenis, beneath the rays of a dazzling sun 
which shed its radiant and resplendent beams on 
the snow-capped summit and the icy slopes of the 
mountain. Toward evening they arrived at Susa. 


• 153 


The Hunter of the Alps. 

The countess could scarce believe that she was 
already in Piedmonh She no longer reckoned the 
days but the hours which separated her from her 
beloved child, Natalie, who was not in very plea- 
sant mood, on account of having been subjected to 
so much delay, eagerly watched every soldier that 
passed by her window, and pestered Florence to 
tell her if he was a Garibaldian, or that handsome 
youth whom Julian had chosen as his companion. 
Her importunities were wholly in vain, for a cap- 
tain of extraordinary politeness, as a real Italian 
officer always is, informed them that the Chasseurs 
of the Alps had returned from Coni toward the 
capital, that as yet no engagement with the enemy 
had taken place, and that one day’s travel would 
bring them from Turin to the headquarters of 
General Garibaldi. 

At noon on May 20 the Countess Leonie entered 
the city which was the object of all her desires. 
She drove to one of the most fashionable hotels 
and took up a suite of splendid apartments. Then, 
selecting from among the multitude of introduc- 
tory letters she had received one addressed to a cer- 
tain Chevalier Eugene, a very high personage, and 
possessing unbounded influence with the Italian 
ministers, she ordered a carriage and, accompanied 
by Natalie, drove to his residence. The chevalier 
and his worthy lady received them with that exqui- 
site, delicate, and* cordial politeness which is the 
distinguishing characteristic of the Italian nobility. 
The chevalier wished them to pass the day with 


154 Hunter of the Alps, 

him, but Leonie declined in the most thankful 
terms, as she was hourly expecting a number of 
letters of an important character. Seeing that 
they could not remain, he and his lady, a native 
of Savoy named Clotilda, proposed to accompany 
them to the hotel. The countess accepted this 
mark of attention in the most gracious terms. Ma- 
dame Clotilda, who admired Natalie greatly, over- 
whelmed her with kindness, and almost envied her 
mother for possessing so lovely a daughter. Be- 
fore taking leave, the plan for effecting Julian’s 
liberation from the army on the following day was 
determined on. The chevalier looked on it already 
as a fixed fact, and the countess, forgetting all her 
past suffering, now thought of naught else than of 
the happiness she would enjoy on receiving once 
more in her arms her* erring but affectionate boy. 

Before leaving home the countess had agreed 
with the Count James, her brother-in-law, to write 
each other every second day, and that, if not other- 
wise ordered, all his letters were to be addressed to 
the general post-ofiQce of Turin. During the weeks 
the journey lasted the count scrupulously observed 
his promise. The countess was exceedingly anxious 
to know if Julian had received her telegram, if the 
banker had cashed his check, and if Julian had an- 
swered her despatch. 

In returning to her apartments the anxiety of the 
countess was augmented on seeing a score of letters 
in the , handwriting of Florence, addressed to her 
with his usual punctuality to time. Some, when 


The Hunter of the Alps, ■ 


155 


she opened them, were found to be from Florence 
directly, some from various friends, and some from 
Count James. Natalie assisted her mother in pick- 
ing out those emanating from Count James direct- 
ly, which the countess was anxious to read first. 
She endeavored even to present them in order of 
date. Suddenly she observed a letter in the counts 
handwriting wherein another was apparently en- 
closed. She seized it anxiously, tore it open, and 
found, as she anticipated, another within. With 
girlish joy she rushed to her mother’s presence and 
exclaimed : 

Here is a letter from Julian !” 

Her mother, overwhelmed with emotion, grasped 
the letter, not even waiting to utter a word in an- 
swer, tore open the envelope with trembling hand, 
and read aloud in j 'yous accents : 

‘My dear mother.’ To me!” she exclaimed. 
“Yes, it is from Julian, my own dear boy.” 

Natalie peeped over her mother’s shoulder mean- 
time, in her eagerness to see what her brother had 
to say. 

Leonie paid no attention to her remarks. After 
reading a few lines she was so overcome by emotion 
that she had to place the letter aside, precious as it 
was to her heart, for a passing moment. Then, 
taking, it up, she read as follows : 

“ Ponte Stura, May 2, 1859, 11 p.m. 

“ My Dearest Mother : Overwhelmed with 
shame and confusion, I write to thank you in the 
most cordial terms for your telegraphic despatch of 
the 30 th April, which I received at Brozolo. I 


156 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


could not answer it sooner, as I am almost dead 
with fatigue, and overtaxed nature must eventual- 
ly succumb. Yesterday I received the two thou- 
sand francs for which you sent me an order on the 
Bank of Turin, and for which I send you unspeak- 
able thanks. But one thing wherefor I can never 
return you adequate thanks is the expression of 
your love and pardon which you send me. 

‘‘ It has given me a peace of heart that I knew not 
since my departure from home. As I am suffering 
severely from fatigue, you must pardon me this 
time for not writing you at greater length. Suffice 
it to say that at this moment more tears fall from 
my eyes than words from my pen. 

I ask you, dear mamma, as your only boy, to 
forgive me for my foolish offence. I did not know 
what I was doing. I am sorry for all the pain and 
anguish I have caused you. I suffer the most un- 
speakable torments every time I think of you, and 
I tell you now, with the most intense earnestness, 
that I have ever loved you, even the very moment 
I rail away from home ; and when I wrote to Na- 
talie, telling her that 30U hated me and that you 
were a tyrannical mother, I knew not what I did 
in the first place ; and, secondly, I did not believe 
wnat I wrote. I pretended to feel a great deal 
more than I meant. And on this account, if on 
none other, I ask you to forgive me. Since T wrote 
that ill-advised letter I have not enjoyed a mo- 
ment’s peace. But should my life be spared, and 
we meet again — as, of course, I ardently wish — I 
promise you that I shall be the source of your con- 


The Himter of the Alps. 157 

solatioii. I must, however, in the meantime, re- 
iterate that there was no justifying reason for your 
being so severe with me. I was absolutely inno- 
cent, and I cannot ever get over the fact that I 
was condemned in the wrong. But the worst of 
all the reproaches directed against me were those 
of my uncle. He treated me in the most unjusti- 
fiable manner, and informed me that he had heard 
all the facts of whicli he had complained from you, 
and even went so far as to threaten me with arrest 
for nothing under heaven, and boasted, in the most 
swaggering fashion, that he would have me brought 
into the police court. 

“ You can readily conceive how hard it is to be 
innocent and nevertheless treated unjustly. This 
caused me the most indescribable pain. I fell into 
the deepest melancholy, and, as you know, almost 
entirely severed my relations with you. I resolved 
to run away from home, and in a moment of folly 
I acted on the foolish idea. This is the plain truth, 
and you know that you always taught me to tell 
the truth at any cost. Certain it is I have ill- 
treated you, but without meaning it at the time ; 
but when I return home, after the conclusion of 
the war, I will make all the explanations necessary, 
will again be as dutiful toward you as I always 
was, and will explain to your satisfaction all my 
faults. 

Meantime, to please you, if for nothing else, I 
purpose going immediately to Holy Communion, 
although I have just made my Easter duty \ and 
this ! will do, with my good friend, for your sake. 


158 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


and witli tlie intention of . preparing for all the 
eventualities of war;* and, if I should chance to 
fall in battle, I can assure you that I shall die as a 
Christian and as an Italian soldier. 

have acted badly toward you, but still I do 
not think there is anything radically wrong about 
my head or heart more than when I was at home. 

have a thousand things to say to Natalie, 
but I have no time at present, and I am almost 
dead from fatigue. You will, therefore, excuse 
me if I conclude somewhat abruptly. I have to go 
out on picket duty in a few moments, and the 
hardships of such a task you can scarcely conceive. 

We are in such close proximity to the enemy 
that^we can plainly hear their cannonade. I am 
just after returning from picket duty. Tell Nata- 
lie that I think of her perpetually, and that, after 
you, she is to me the dearest one on earth. I send 
you herewith my address and assumed name. I 
shall write you as often as 1 can. Yours affec- 
tionately, JuLIAif.” 

Dinner was postponed, and for the time being no 
other letters were read. Leonie, in transports of 
joy, perused again and again the affectionate ex- 
pressions of her repentant son. Natalie was de- 
lighted. Tlie concluding lines especially seemed 
to her so gentle, so graceful, so affectionate. 

During dinner Florence, who heard Natalie ex- 
patiate on the good qualities of Julian, and the 
many indications thereof contained in his letter, 
especially the last lines, asked anxiously if 
Julian had said anything about himself. On being 


The Hunter of the Alps, 159 

answered in the negative lie made a few wry faces, 
and observed: hope his repentance is sincere, 

though I greatly doubt it ; the young count has 
something to settle with me for his neglect, which, 
to my mind, amounts to ingratitude. However, 
let us hope for the best.” 

Natalie interrupted him in the sweep of his in- 
dignant eloquence by continuing her panegyric on 
her brother. 

The Chevalier Eugene and his wife arrived at the 
close of dinner. 

^‘Madame,” observed the chevalier, addressing 
the countess, Count Cavour, who has just arrived 
from the headquarters of the Emperor Napoleon at 
Alessandria, and with whom I had a hurried con- 
versation a moment since, will have the honor of 
receiving you to-morrow morning either at his 
hotel, at nine o’clock, or at the ministerial office at 
ten o’clock.” 

A thousand thanks for your kindness ; but then 
what benefit may I expect to derive from the inter- 
view ? ” 

“ Every benefit imaginable. Count Cavour, as 
you know, is all-powerful ; a single scratch of his 
pen can restore Julian to you.” 

‘^And how, may I ask, did you find him dis- 
posed ?” 

‘^Admirably. He observed, and frequently in 
the course of our conversation repeated the re- 
mark, that he would be only too happy to confer 
a favor on a member of so distinguished a family 
as that to which the Countess Leonio belongs. 


i6o The Himter of the Alps, 

froQi whom he expects a great deal for the cause 
of Italy.” 

'^Oh ! he is egregiously mistaken if he conceives 
that I will in any wise interfere in politics ; all I 
purpose doing for Italy is to bring up in my son a 
good citizen for it. I shall goto see the count to- 
morrow morning without fail. Will you be so good 
as to accompany me, chevalier ? ” 

I shall be most happy to do so. I shall call 
here with my carriage for you at eight o’clock in 
the morning.” 

After having made all the necessary arrange- 
ments, and chatted on a variety of matters, the 
chevalier and lady took their leave. The countess, 
owing to the serious thoughts that preoccupied lier 
mind, slept little that night. She was fully con- 
vinced that on the following day she would again 
press to her bosom that obedient and repentant 
child which she never loved with such tenderness 
as since she had lost him. 




CHAPTER XX. 

COUKT CAVOUR. 

Natalie, at her mother’s suggestion, siarted out, 
accompanied by her maid, for her morning walk 
about half-past eight a.m. Her direction to-day 
was to the church dedicated to the Mother of God 
under the name of the Consoling Virgin.” When 
she had gone Leonie, accompanied by the chevalier, 
went out also, but in a different direction. Their 
steps were turned towards the house of the Count 
Cavour. 

In the antechamber of his excellency every po- 
liteness and courtesy becoming her rank was shown 
to the countess. 

My Lord Camillus, the Count Cavour, never 
affected the red-tapeism of the Parisian statesman. 
Ho was at all times no less a gentleman than a man 
of business. lie was ever more of a talker than 
an orator. He was blunt in his manner and al- 
ways approachable. And he knew as well how to 
suit himself to the peasant as to the refined cour- 
tier; though, on the whole, his bearing was that 
rather of a country gentleman than one who live 1 
in the atmosphere of the palace. As to his perso- 
161 


102 The Hunter of the Alps, 

nai appeanince, in complexion lie was almost rud- 
dy ; an ample but uneven brow overhung a pair of 
half-closed eyes, whose characteristic and restless 
expression lay in a quick, piercing look that some- 
how impressed you with the idea of their malignan- 
cy. Nay, a very feeling that none could describe, 
from those fitful, almost petulant glances he would 
dart at you through his little gold-rimmed glasses, 
would come over you, for none could tell if those 
looks boded good or ill. While his nose was the 
reverse of aquiline, his mouth was extravagantly 
large, and a facile, sardonic grin ever played on 
those thin, mobile lips ; and his clean-shaven face 
borrowed an expression from the thick-set beard 
under his chin. In stature he was short, round, 
and of an indifferent form. His hands were 
never at rest, and he assumed an air of ease and 
self-content by constantly rubbing them one against 
the other. 

Such is the man some styled the greatest di- 
plomat — meaning, no doubt, the most unscrupulous 
trickster — of our day. Perhaps in . this constant 
friction of his hands he sought to conceal the anx- 
ious air that ever sat on him. Gesture at times ex- 
presses more than words. 

After the usual introduction and conventionalities 
had passed Leonie and the chevalier seated them- 
selves on a lounge and the count sank into an arm- 
chair. He had a paper-knife in his hand, and he 
kept constantly playing with it, allowing them evi- 
dently to open their business to him in their own 
way. The grave and dignified bearing of the conn- 


The Hunter of the Alps, 163 

tess, iiccompanicd with the air of natural grace and 
remarkable beauty, commanded a respect that none 
could refuse. 

Cavour at length began, as if recollecting him- 
self : 

The chevalier last evening explained to me 
■what has led to my being thus honored, my lady, 
with your visit. This is an affair that of course 
is within my province as Minister of War, and I 
am really very happy to be able to'serve your lady- 
ship. Of course ib would be asking too much to 
have you sacrifice an only son in the patriotic cause. 
So if your ladyship will but give me the necessa- 
ry directions as to where I am to find him, he 
will be restored at once to you.” 

Thanks, many thanks, my lord ! ” broke in 
Leonie joyfully ; but I shall send a substitute for 
him, no matter what it may cost me.” 

‘‘ By no means, noble lady ; all I seek is a little 
sympathy for the cause of Italy and the king from 
a house so influential as yours in Komagna. I am 
no stranger to your family or its hereditary poli- 
tics, and it is because of this, perhaps, that I am 
most anxious now to do you this little service.” 

Does my lord mean,” said Leonie, that for 
this I must forego my former allegiance to our Holy 
Father Pius IX. ? If he does — ” 

Ah ! no, good lady. God deliver us from such 
a thought ! We are all the spiritual subjects of St. 
Peter. Why, the king himself boasts of his alle- 
giance to the Holy See.” 

‘^I am delighted at that,” said Leonie, wiih the 


164 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


faintest sarcasm in her smile; “but I and my 
household, boast that we are the temporal subjects 
of the Pope. My children are trained to love and 
revere their king, and with us we recognise but 
Pius.” 

I know that perfectly well. All that I hope 
from your loyal and generous heart, countess, is 
that you — I will not say support our party — but to 
think of us more favorably, more charitably even, 
to regard in a more temperate manner the events 
which in all human probability will occur in the 
Romagna. May I entertain such a hope ? ” 

‘^Byno means, count,” responded Leonie in a 
resolute tone. In my family there has never 
been a traitor to the Holy Father. I shall not be 
the one to inaugurate the deed of shame, and 
leave a heritage of opprobrium to my children ; of 
this you may be well assured.” 

“ Countess, I hope you are not offended,” ob- 
served the chevalier, in the most polite and grace- 
ful manner. Count Cavour does not ask such a 
sacrifice as that of you. He has no desire to cast 
any odium on an illustrious line, or to wound a 
mother’s heart.” 

True, perfectly true,” remarked Cavour, as he 
nervously rubbed his hands together ; the countess 
is warmly devoted to the welfare of the Pope, as we 
all are, and I esteem her the more for it, I assure 
you. She is a lady of a high order of intellect, 
he continued, putting particular emphasis on th 
last words, and smiling ambiguously, if not sarcas- 
tically. 


i6s 


The Hunter of the Alps. 

‘^Yes; count,” replied the lady, with a withering 
glance, am a woman with one credo. But, to 
return to the subject, can you tell me where my 
son is at present ? ” 

He is on the march,” answered the count, as 
he glanced uneasily at the paper-knife he held in 
his fingers. 

On the march whither ?” 

I really cannot tell you for a Certainty,” re- 
plied the count, with a somewhat embarrassed air. 
“ When do you want him ?” 

^‘Immediately — as soon as possible'—this very 
day, if I can find him ! ” 

“Would you desire to have him return to Tu- 
rin, or would you prefer to go and meet him to- 
morrow, for instance, at Chivasso ? ” 

“ What ! wait till to-morrow ?” 

“I cannot move faster than the steam-engine. 
All I can at present do is to telegraph to his com- 
mander to have him halt on the march and re- 
turn here.” 

“ By all means, count, I jDray you to do so, and 
tell him also that his mother is awaiting him 
here.” 

The count forthwith summoned a servant to his 
presence. Then, taking a pen and slip of paper, 
he wrote a few lines, and turning to the countess, 
asked : 

“ What is his name ?” 

“ Julian — but no ; he gave another name when 
he joined the army, the foolish boy ! ” 

“ Ah ! But can you give me that name ?” 


1 66 The Hunter ^ of the Alps, 

Yes ; it is Rupert.” 

What regiment, battalion, and company does 
lie belong to ? ” 

The countess told him. 

Count,” she continued in tremulous accents, 
‘^my son has a very dear friend, a companion in 
his regiment, a beautiful and excellent youth of 
seventeen years, who, like Julian, in a foolish mo- 
ment ran away from home and enlisted in the 
army of Piedmont. Would it be possible, count, 
for me to get him out of the army also, and re- 
store him safe to his grief-stricken mother ? ” 
‘^Ahem! Well, let us see; yes, you know, 
countess, I cannot refuse you, if you ask me.” 

Well, I do ask you.” 

Thereupon Leonie gave the count all necessary 
information concerning Maso ; the minister wrote 
a few more lines, handed them to the servant, and 
then, turning toward Leonie, observed, as he 
peered with weasel eye over his spectacles : ‘‘lam 
very happy,, madame, to be able- to prove to yon 
that Count Cavour is not, after all, quite as black 
as his enemies paint him.” 

“ I shall never forget your kindness,’’ answered 
Leonie ; “but I hope you will order the dismissal 
from the army of my son and his comrade,” 

“ Certainly I shall; I have already telegraphed 
to the headquarters of Cenerai Garibaldi. Both 
will receive the news at the first halt the regiment 
makes. I shall communicate all intelligence in 
connection with the affair to Chevalier Eugene. 
You can send some trustworthy person this even- 


The Hunter of the Alps. 167 

ing to Iiead quarters to meet him and. bring bim to 
Turin.” 

shall go myself.” 

‘^No; I would not counsel you to do so. In 
time of war dangers are thick. Take my advice, 
and send some reliable person to Chivasso, where 
the two boys will arrive soon — yes, to-morrow after- 
noon,” he continued, after glancing for a moment 
at a map of the theatre of war. 

But who will receive them?” asked Leonie, 
somewhat disturbed. 

I myself, with your steward,” answered the 
count. 

^‘Oh ! you are too kind in Ihns troubling your- 
self.” 

‘‘ By no means ; it shall be my greatest happiness 
to restpre your son to you safe and well.” 

‘^No words can adequately convey my thanks to 
you, count, for your inestimable favor.” 

‘‘Oh ! that is nothing,” replied Oavour, as he 
rubbed his hands in his usual nervous manner. 
“ Suffice it to observe that, though you are faithfully 
attached to the Papal Government, yet ours is not 
the hideous monster that some depict it.” 

“ But I do not purpose to have my son and his 
comrade liberated from the army without compen- 
sating you for it. I intend paying the bounty 
allowed for substitutes.” 

“ f^ot at all, madame ; tlie pleasure of conferring 
a favor on a worthy person is the greatest of all 
compensations.” 

And as he spoke the distinguished statesman ac, 


1 68 The Hunter of the Alps, 

companied his visitors to the door, took leave of 
them with the most formal politeness, and return- 
ed to his study. Leonie, transported with joy and 
surprise, entered the carriage of Chevalier Eugene, 
who ordered his coachman to drive slowly, as he 
wished to take time to arrange with the countess 
everything she might think necessary for so im- 
portant an affair. 



CHAPTER XXI. 


CUEIOUS DETAILS. 

A READEE unacquainted with recent Italian 
politics may be somewhat surprised on seeing Count 
Camillus de Cavour so well informed regarding the 
Countess Leonie. Every one now knows perfectly 
well that this statesman was the mainspring of the 
Italian revolution, and the regulator of the societies 
which hatched the plot that resulted in the political 
submersion of the Italian peninsula ; that around 
him, as satellites round the sun, the secret commit- 
tees revolved ; toward him all the secret agencies 
converged; from him emanated every advice, sugges- 
tion, command, and, what amounted to more, the 
secret-service money. He had legions of spies 
scattered through the provinces, in every city, 
town, village, and hamlet, who duly reported to 
him everything they could learn, whether of good 
or evil. To speak of Emilia alone, where the 
Countess Leonie resided, it is a notorious circum- 
stance, and has been demonstrated by overwhelm- 
ing evidence, that Pepoli and -Minghetti were at 
Bologna, the head and heart of the conspiracy, 
and that from this centre they manipulated the 
Government, by bribery, corruption, and every im- 
169 


170 The Hunter of the Alps, 

moral means, of the Romagna, io tlie great detri- 
ment of the Pope and the temporal power. Both 
were attached to Count Cavour by the closest ties, 
and it is not necessary for us here to enumerate the 
many emoluments they received, or the exalted 
ofiSces they subsequently obtained. The Revela- 
tions of Carletti,’’ a secret agent of Count Cavour, 
have been given to the public, and disclose an 
abyss of turpitude rarely to be met in history, and 
none of those whom he stamped with the seal of 
shame has as yet disproved or denied the stigma at- 
taching to them. 

While smiling, in her conversation with the che- 
valier, anent the vain hope cherished by Count 
Cavour to induce her to support the Piedmontese 
party, the countess asked to know the cause of the 
veil of mystery which the minister flung round 
Julian’s whereabouts. The Chevalier Eugene, 
though not sharing Cavour’s political ideas in every 
detail, was nevertheless one of his most intimate 
friends, and frequently learned from him secrets 
denied to the uninitiated. He was not a “ Liberal ” 
in the rigorous sense of that term ; for, had he 
been such, the countess would never have consent- 
ed to accept from him letters of recommendation; 
but he was one of those who, while deeply re- 
ligious, virtuous, and loyal, nevertheless engage 
in every new political .movement which does not 
diametrically conflict with their sense of right. 
He was intensely devoted to the house of Savoy. 
He troubled himself little about what was paraded 
as the ‘‘independence of Italy”; he only looked 


The Hunter of the Alps. 171 

on ib as a plausible pretext for the aggrandizement 
of the Sardinian monarchy. He desired to pre- 
serve intact the pontifical territory, he wished to 
maintain the Italian princes on their thrones, he 
was opposed to any violation of justice ; hut all 
this on condition of seeing the principles of 1789 
propagated, which principles he interpreted after 
his own peculiar fashion — a fashion which, while it 
did not please the Liberals,^’ yet scandalized the 
Conservatives. He was a kind of political amphi- 
bian, belonging to two different elements. He was 
kind and condescending, and lost no occasion to 
endeavor to dissipate the cloud of grief which hung 
over Leonie’s soul. 

Let not the mysterious conversation of Count 
Cavour,^’ he observed to the countess, ‘‘ in relation 
to Julian’s exact whereabouts in anywise trouble 
you. The count cannot, of course, divulge the 
movements of the army. I know* personally that 
the king has entrusted Garibaldi with the conduct 
of an expedition which they wisli to keep a pro- 
found secret. Woe to them if the Austrians 
should discover it ! Garibaldi’s force would be cut 
to pieces in an hour.” 

But is this expedition far in advance ?” 
have reason to think it is.” 

Shall we arrive in time ? ” 

"^Certainly, certainly; without the slightest 
doijbt. You may rely on my word.” 

Very well, then,” she continued, somewhat 
calmed ; but tell me how it is that the royal Go- 
vernment accepts the services, in a war pretending 


172 


The H.uìiter of the Alps. 


to be waged in tlie cause of civilization, of that 
assassin Garibaldi ? Is not such a name sufficient 
to disgrace any flag ? I blush with shame at the 
very thought of my son being in the command of 
such a man.” 

Countess, you are not entirely wrong in what 
you say. Nevertheless, there is a multitude of 
things to be taken into consideration in relation to 
the question. Count Cavour is desirous of concili- 
ating all parties, with the sole object of securing 
the triumph of the national cause, and, to my 
mind, he acts wisely in accepting the- aid of all par- 
ties. Perhaps, too. Garibaldi is not quite so black 
as he is painted. I understand that he has sworn 
allegiance to the king, and what more could you 
expect from anybody ? For my part, I should hesi- 
tate before calling him assassin. After all, he is a 
man of great courage and daring, and I have not 
tlje slightest doubt that he is animated by good in- 
tentions.” 

You are highly indulgent toward a bandit like 
him, chevalier. In France a very different opinion 
prevails. During my journey from Chambery I 
met many French generals who would not deign to 
measure swords with such a man— him whom they 
ignominiòusly chased out of Kome in 1849.” 

That is all true enough. I am aware even 
that a recommendation almost amounting to a 
command came from Paris not to accept the ser- 
vices of Garibaldi, but state reasons of the gravest 
nature obliged Count Cavour to act otherwise. 
Certain it is that while General la Marmora has 


173 


The Himter of the Alps. 

been Minister of War he opposed might and main 
the creation of the Chasseurs of the Alps. What, 
then, could be done, madame ? Everything in 
this world is controlled by circumstances. But do‘ 
not for a moment believe that Garibaldi is a favor- 
ite of Cavour’s. On the contrary, he always keeps 
him at a respectable distance. Meantime, do not 
abandon hope ; Julian will soon be relieved from 
military service.” 

But as long as I live I shall not cease to lament 
my son’s escapade. With him, of course, I shall 
forget the past and studiously refrain from reproach- 
ing him for it, but I can none the less regret it.” 

What the Chevalier Eugene thinks of Garibaldi 
at the present moment we are unable to determine, 
but we have reason to believe that he has formed a 
different estimate of him from that which he en- 
tertained in 1859. Be that as it may, it is clearly 
evident that the Countess Leonie formed a just 
opinion of the ‘^liberator of Sicily, the hermit of 
Caprera.” 

The truth is that this man, in becoming the Mo- 
loch of the Masonic sect, became likewise the 
most implacable enemy in Italy of the Catholic 
Church, the Vicar of Christ, and the priesthood. 
iMot being able, as he vehemently desired, to steep 
his sword in the blood of the ministers of God, he 
availed himself of every means to insult and calum- 
niate them. A collection of Garibaldi’s letters will 
give the most faithful and authentic picture of the 
man and of his heroic spirit to transmit to future 
generations. When our descendants wish to cor- 


174 Hunter of the Alps. 

rectly ai:)preciate the Italian revolution of these lat- 
ter years it will suffice to show them the collection 
referred to, with the remark : Behold the man 
who was its literal impersonation.” 

The countess and the chevalier at length arrived 
at the porch of their hotel. Impatient to commu- 
nicate to her daughter the happy results of her 
morning visit, the countess had scarce descended 
from her carriage than she eagerly asked one of the 
hotel servants : 

‘‘Has my daughter returned ?” 

“Yes, madame, and the other little gentleman 
also, in company with a Garibaldian, whom the 
young lady received in the most joyous manner. 
They are up-stairs at present.” 

“ A G-aribaldian ! ” exclaimed Leonie in the 
height of amazement. “ And Natalie received him 
with every demonstration of joy ! Chevalier, can 
it be he?” 

“Who ? Julian ? Let us see ; it may be a sur- 
prise of Count Cavour*s.” 

“Are you certain,” continued Leonie, addressing 
the servant, “ that he was a Garibaldian ? ” 

“Yes, madame, a Garibaldian, and one dyed in 
the wool at that. I know them well ; one of their 
regiments passed through Turin day before yester- 
day. Oh ! yes, madame, I know them.” 

“And my daughter received him in a most joy- 
ous manner ? ” 

“Yes ; she drew his bayonet out of its sheath, 
examined his belts, buttons, and all his accoutre- 
ments.” 


The Hunter of the Alps. 175 

Ah ! it is he, chevalier — it is Julian/’ exclaim- 
ed the countess, livid with emotion. “ But,” she 
continued, addressing the servant, ‘‘ was this Gari- 
baldian of medium héight, slender, and without 
whiskers ? ” 

“Exactly, madame.” 

'^He had jet-black eyes and waving, curling 
hair ? ” 

“ I think so.” 

“ He resembles my daughter, does he not ? ” 

“ I did not scan him closely enough to say, but 
he appeared to me to be quite a handsome-looking 
youth.” 

“Oh! without doubt, chevalier, it is Julian; 
lend me your arm and assist me up-stairs.” 

And immediately she proceeded. 

Kestrain your emotion, madame,” observed the 
chevalier ; “you know how overpowering first im- 
pressions are.” 

Leonie was totally overcome ; she turned deadly 
pale, her heart beat fitfully, and, weak with emo- 
tion, she fiung herself on a couch on entering her 
apartments, requesting the chevalier to enter the 
next room and see if it was Julian. 

At this juncture the exultant Natalie exclaimed : 

“Mother, come, come and see how Julian is 
dressed !” as she rapped on the outside against the 
folding-doors. 

The chevalier started up to silence her ; and the 
countess started also with a scream, but sank back 
again with her face in her hands. 



CHAPTER XXIL 

THE CAMPAIGN. 

Fertile and joyous by nature one would think 
ought that valley to be that runs along the left 
bank of the Dora-Baltea. The observer is ever 
impressed with the gay verdure of its little dells 
and hillocks, its glens and undulating sward, espe- 
cially as it strikes the tortuous Sesia. The termi- 
nation and key to the valley is the beautiful town 
of Yercelli. For it stands at the extreme end 
of that beauteous, level country — the famous plain 
where Marius routed the Cimbrians with such 
slaughter. Nothing there meets the eye but the 
grassy mead, countless and teeming orchards, fields 
under cultivation, and everywhere abundant pastu- 
rage. Here and there are farms with their stock- 
yards and outhouses well stocked with cattle ; vil- 
lages and communes populated by families well 
instructed and industrious. There is a point above, 
in the direction of the Dora, and following the 
course of the train as i t crosses these plains and 
heads for Santhia, at which there is a junction of 
the tracks from Biella and Chivasso. In this fa- 
vored spot stands the borough of St. Germain, an 
176 


The Hunter of the Alps^ 


177 


excellent strategic position. It faces Vercelli, and 
is an outpost in the fortifications of Turin. Some 
miles below Capriasco stands another military work. 
It is an old, half-ruined dwelling, surrounded with 
a large estate. In war times a better place could 
not be found for an advance post, or to locate sen- 
tinels unseen by those of an enemy occupying St. 
Germain. 

Here on the 15th of May lay the pickets of the 
troops under the old General Sonnaz. To him was 
entrusted the protection of the metropolis of the 
kingdom against the invading Austrians. The 
three Garibaldian regiments — ^the Chasseurs of the 
Alps — had arrived, and lay encamped here, resting 
on their arms in momentary expectation of the 
enemy. 

But Marshal Giulay, either because of some new 
strategic move or from fear, did not cross the 
Sesia, though for eight weeks he had flooded the 
Lomellina country with his troops. In the first 
days of the invasion he appeared at the head of 
forty thousand men on his way to Ivrea, so from 
that position he might make a descent on the capi- 
tal. Then he could have easily passed the river. 
But suddenly changing his tactics, he wheeled his 
battalions as if in retreat, and took up a new posi- 
tion. On either side of him was a river, and his 
camp was connected by their bridges with the 
peninsula of the Lomellina. So secure was he now 
that it was useless for the enemy to attempt to dis- 
lodge him. This manoeuvre of Marshal Giulay al- 
lowed time to the ally of Piedmont — the French — 


178 The Hunter of the Alps, 

to reach Liguria by both the sea aud the descent 
of the Alps, following the upper course of the river 
Po. It also rendered useless all the precautions of 
the Sardinian Government at Novi, Alexandria, 
and Casal, and along the left hank of the Dora in 
defence of the regal city. 

What led the Austrian commander-in-chief to 
this sudden change of front is and must ever re- 
main a mystery. The historians of Italy, France, 
and Germany who have made mention of this short 
campaign have with one voice blamed Marshal 
Giulay that with troops so well disciplined he did 
not at once scatter before him the Piedmontese, 
occupy Turin, and so receive the French as they 
arrived in their bands, poorly mounted and badly 
ammunitioned. Easy at that time was it for him 
to gain the first laurels of victory. So certain were 
the French and Sardinians in their expectation of 
this action on the part of the Austrians that Mar- 
shal Canrobert advised Victor Emmanuel, if the 
king would divert the attack from Turin, to make 
no defence on the banks of the river Dora, but 
rather to invite an attack from the Austrian left 
wing near Casal. Giulay seemed anxious rather to 
confine himself to proclamations and threats, not 
reflecting that action is more suitable than talk in 
time of war. 

On the morning of the 18th of May the dawn 
was unusually brilliant. The clouds in dark and 
heavy masses hung on the horizon, intensifying by 
contrast the brilliant and many-colored rays of the 
glowing ^upburst which suddenly broke on the 


179 


The Huìiter of the Alps. 

atmosplicro and flooded with its light the camp of 
Capriasco. The troops, exliausted with fatigue, 
lay around in a heavy slumber. Some had fallen 
asleep under the shelter of their broken tents, 
some in the open starlight on the grass or among 
the brushwood. The mounted sentry alone was not 
asleep ; some, wrapt up in their military cloaks, 
with a handkerchief thrown over their face, lay 
stretched at full length ; others lay on their faces 
with their heads buried in heaps of fodder, and 
snored lustily to the echoes of the night. Horse- 
rugs, sword-belts, and cases, forage lately collect- 
ed, mess kettles and cups, lay scattered around in 
confusion and disorder; pyramids of bags stood 
beside huge piles of firewood, and everywhere 
stacks of arms now reflected the first rays of the 
rising sun. 

Julian passed the night seated on a truss of 
straw at the edge of a trench, and with his back 
resting against the stump of an old oak. So dis- 
ordered in dress and person was he that one might 
easily mistake him for some slovenly tramp. 
Awakened by the first light of the dawn, he was 
about to jump to his feet, but he found that 
Maso’s head lay across his knees. The two friends 
sat down to rest in the same way against the tree ; 
but during the night Maso in his heavy sleep had 
slipped from his position and fallen across Julian, 
and there he lay. Julian, not to disturb his young 
friend — they were companions in arms and misery 
— remained tranquil. He saw Maso was exhaust- 
ed, and felt fpE.him. His sleep was heavy, and he. 


i8o The Hunter of the Alps. 

breathed calmly and freely. And as J ulian looked 
affectionately at him a gay smile seemed faintly to 
flit over the pale, unique features of the sleeper, 
as with a light breath the morning breeze played 
with his fair, dishevelled locks. Julian was lost in 
contemplation of that peace of soul that could 
bring a smile on that angel face now lit up with 
the glow of the aurora, with its large eyelashes that 
hung over eyes as sweetly lustrous as those of the 
dove and brilliant as a sapphire. A glance at these 
ingenuous features — ^the very reflection of a pure 
and candid soul — aroused in Julian a lasting affec- 
tion for Maso. He thought then of the noble ex- 
amples that Maso had often mentioned to him of 
virtue, of repentant sorrow, and of religion ; Maso’s 
consoling words to him, torn with remorse, his 
wholesome and friendly advice, whole-souled pro- 
positions, generous resolves, and all that there was 
gentle, pure, and pious in this youth whom 
Providence had sent him to be his friend. . . . And 
his thoughts reverted from this dear friend to that 
other dear one. The thought of Natalie was 
centred ever in his very heart of hearts. There 
was, he thought, such a resemblance between the 
dispositions of Maso and that dear sister that God 
had just thrown Maso in his way to bring about 
their union. How could he obtain the consent of 
his mother ? Already he dreamed himself the 
brother of his friend. And this happy thought 
gave him such pleasure that he kissed the sleeping 
face, and, taking his friend in his arms, awoke him 
with a start. 


The Hunter of the Alps. i8l 

‘‘What’s the matter ? What’s this?” shouted 
the startled Maso. 

“ Don’t you see where you’re lying ? Why, 
you’re right across me,” was the abrupt reply of 
the confused Julian. “ Get up, it’s the time now.” 

“ Ah ! ” cried Maso, and turning himself over on 
his friend, he stretched out his legs with such a 
quick movement that he pushed Julian from him 
into the trench, rolled down on top of him into the 
mud. 

“Good again!” cried Julian in the best of 
humor, while he raised himself on his elbows. 
“Heaven bless the boy! that just finishes my 
toilet.” While Maso with a loud laugh laid hold 
on a branch and swung himself out of the ditch. 

“See,” said Julian, “my beautiful mud color. 
This is a good commencement to thq day.” 

“Come, then,” said Maso, convulsed with 
laughing — “come, and I’ll help you to get the 
mud off.” And suiting the action to the word, he 
seized a wisp of straw and began to wipe off the 
mud from the dress of Juliau. 

This adventure was fun for the whole day. 
When Maso had finished his work on his friend's 
apparel he went to one side for a minute and 
made the sign of the cross on himself. Then 
Julian remembered that ho must not forget his 
morning prayers for that day. 

After Julian received the telegram from his 
mother, the natural affection of his nature returned 
to him, and a lively desire to return again to her 
took possession of him. And now his only dream 


1 82 The Hunter of the Alps. 

was to obtain through a substitute or otherwise ex- 
emption from further military service. The letter 
of sorrow he immediately sent his mother showed 
how deeply repentant he was — once more the good 
youth of days gone by, and for whom Natalie had 
so fervently prayed to the Holy Virgin. 

As to this letter, it was entirely the composition 
of Julian, though Maso read it again before 
closing it, corrected and punctuated it where 
Julian, in his anxiety and hurry to open his heart 
to his mother, had made grammatical faults. The 
young counsellor Maso declared this letter a good 
one, and worthy of Julian, who, when he had 
written it, did not allow the feelings of filial love 
to cool or die out in his breast. Twice again did 
Julian attempt to write to his mother, but the 
weariness of constant marching and military duty 
rendered it impossible for him. He also kept the 
promise made to the countess that he would ap- 
proach the Holy Sacrament and thus prepare him- 
self for the campaign. Here we may add that, 
now strengthened by his religion, and taking 
courage from the inaction of the Austrians, he no 
longer feared death; it had lost its terrors for him. 
What now more troubled him as well as Maso than 
anything else was the fatigue of marching, want of 
sleep, constant lying on the hard ground, and the 
monotonous sentinel duty. The inclemency of the 
cold and rainy weather had given Maso a swelling 
in his feet. The poor lad bitterly regretted having 
joined the army, and he was ever bitter in his com- 
plaint against those who seduced and cajoled him 


The Hu 7 ttcr of the Alps. 183 

into doing so by their grandiloquent talk about in- 
dependence and liberty. In fact, our two young 
friends were not the only volunteers who had to 
deplore being victimized by Piedmontese agents. 

I sha’n’t bid you good-morning,’’ said Julian 
as Maso returned, for we have already had our 
morning’s greeting, and after a novel fashion. . . . 
So inseparable are we, it would seem, that one can’t 
fall into a ditch without the other falling on top of 
him.” 

Certainly,” replied Maso. You see we must 
have been born under the sign of the zodiac the 
Twins, and we shall rest always together. Be- 
tween us the union is one of life and death, as 
the little French corporal says to a crowd of his 
chums in the inn at Casal. But just look how 
this crowd does snore. What time of day is it, I 
wonder ? ” 

Twenty minutes to four o’clock,” said Julian, 
looking at his watch. 

Ah I ” said Maso, ‘^your toy continues to 
work.” 

‘^Wonderfully; it ticks as regularly as the heart 
of her who gave it me, and of whom it always 
makes me think.” 

“I now pain you,” said Maso regretfully ; “but 
be prudent.” 

When Maso saw that he was not overheard he 
began the recital of his own sufferings. He was soon 
interrupted by aloud blast of the trumpet from the 
old house where G-eneral Garibaldi was quartered. 
The camp was soon stirring, and in less time than 


184 The Hunter of the Alps, 

it takes to relate it the troops were in their ranks 
and under arms. By the general’s orders they were 
at once to march foi: St. G-ermain. Here each 
regiment in its turn would take the train for 
Biella. 

This is just the thing,” whispered Maso into 
the ear of his friend. How I can have my infir- 
mities attended to.” 

‘^What are we going to do at Biella?” said 
Julian. 

‘‘I don’t know,” was the reply, but I do know 
my own wants. We’ll talk more when we get 
there,” said Maso, in a tone positive and yet mys- 
terious. 

When they reached St. Germain, and while- the 
din and racket of the soldiers in the depot made it 
more like a bedlam, though General Sonnaz honor- 
ed them with his presence, a sergeant handed a 
couple of despatches to Maso. He tore them open 
at once. One was for himself, the other for his 
friend, and so wholly taken up was Maso with his 
own that he did not observe the pleasure Julian’s 
gave him. It bore a letter from Natalie in an 
azure-colored envelope, and written on rose-colored 
paper, highly decorated. Yes, indeed ! a real letter 
from his dear, kind sister Natalie, with a postscript 
from his mother. It also had wrapped up in a 
delicate silk gauze a photograph of these dear 
souls. Julian would have given vent to his plea- 
sure in some frantic act of joy had he not been re- 
strained by the presence of the soldiers. 

Thus ran the contents of the little rose-leaf : 


The Hunter of the Alps. 185 

Chambery, March 12, 1859. 

Dearest Brother: Mother and myself, 
accompanied by Florence, arc on our way in search 
of you. I have been a little indisposed, but I am 
now quite well again. We have rested here for a 
few days. We shall hurry at once to where you 
are. You cannot imagine how we long to be with 
you. We can only speak of you, think of you, and 
pray for you. We have even made a vow to the 
Holy Virgin, that she may send you soon back to 
us. 

I wish I could say all I want to say, but mother 
desires me only to write a few lines lest I become 
fatigued. She will add a few words. We send 
you our portraits, which we got taken expressly for 
you. We are sure that we shall return with you in 
our company, for anything short of this would kill 
mother, and me after her. The last letter, April 
17 , you sent shows me that you are the same dear 
brother you ever were. I can’t help reading it. 
I must conclude. Adieu ! Julian, good-by. Ac- 
cept my love. Your Sister Natalie. 

P. S. — My dear son, your mother, who can now 
only weep, sends you her love. I am in search of 
you. Eemember that your life is in your own 
hands. You shall be slain if you do not come back 
to me. Yet shall I die ever loving and forgiving 
you. I have had my portrait taken along with Na- 
talie. I would like to show you that if there is in 
the w'orld another heart that loves you next to that 
of your sister, and that would die for you, it is that 
of your mother. Did you receive my telegram 


1 86 The Hunter of the Alps, 

and the two thousand francs from the banker at 
Turin ? On receipt of this, if it does reach you, 
write me by return of post to Turin. I shall be 
there in a few days. I’ll get a substitute for you. 
I shall do all that is possible to liberate you. You’ll 
come back with your mother, won’t you, my son ? 
Ah ! yes, you will. Good-by, then, my dear child ! 
My blessing on you ! I trust you to the care of the 
Holy Virgin, and send you a thousand good wishes. 
— Your mother, Leokie.” 

‘‘0 Julian !” said Maso, when he had finished 
his letter, ‘^my father is coming to take me home.” 

‘^See here, Maso,” said Julian in his turn, as 
tears of joy came to his eyes. He handed the pic- 
ture to his friend. That is she, and that is my 
mother. They are, perhaps, already in Turin. 
What think you ? Have I not reason to love them 
with my whole soul ? ” 

‘^Natalie !” exclaimed Maso, as he took the 
portrait to examine it more closely and in a better 
light. . 

And who would you take it to be ?” said Ju- 
lian. Look ! is not she an angel ? ” 

Certainly she is, my friend, and I congratu- 
late you that you have such a sister,” said Maso, 
opening his eyes wide with astonishment. ‘‘But 
this other lady seated beside her with such a me- 
lancholy air ?” 

“ That’s my poor mother, who — ” 

He could not finish it. Tears fell from his eyes 
and sobs choked his utterance. 

understand. I can see it. You are her very 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


187 


image,” said Maso. what an elegant lady 

is your mother ! She has the bearing of an em- 
press.” 

The whistle of the locomotive warned them that 
it was time to take seats. Our two young friends 
leaped into* a carriage and sat leaning on each other 
in a corner. Again went the whistle, and the air 
rang with the shouts of Long live Italy ! ” ‘‘ Long 
live Sonnaz ! ” Long live Garibaldi !” as the train 
put out of the depot. 



CHAPTER XXIIL 


A GAKIBALDIAN. 

Who, then, was this Garibaldian whom Florence 
led to the hotel while the countess was on her 
way back from a yisit to Count Cavour ? Was 
it really Julian ? Why should it be any one 
else ? Why, in the space of three days the train 
could carry you from Capriasco almost to the Pil- 
lars of Hercules (Gibraltar). But was his sudden 
return a fact ? The Chevalier Eugene had no 
doubt on that score. Was it, then, really Julian 
who had returned ? Alas ! no. The poor mother 
had been beguiled into this expectation by her own 
anxiety, the reports her faithful though foolish old 
servitor had brought her, and the very strangeness 
of the whole affair. And now at Turin the mo- 
ther’s heart in her was almost broken down under a 
crowd of emotions that she had thought herself 
proof against but yesterday at Chivasso. 

Natalie was burning with a desire to see the 
equipment and color of the uniform that her bro- 
ther was wearing ; and so before going out with 
her maid through the city she gave some money 
to Florence to go and induce some Garibaldian 
188 


The Hunter of the Alps, 189 

soldier to come to tlie hotel, that the sight of his 
costume might please her mother. 

Florence would obey on one condition — if he 
should meet one that had not the look of a gallows 
bird in his face. As chance would have it, Florence 
fell in with one who did not bear on his face the 
stamp of his fellow-patriots. He met him at the 
corner of the Lady’s Palace on the Gastello Square. 
He was a youth, small in stature, gallant in his 
bearing, neat even to preciseness in bis costume, 
and with the identical uniform of the volunteers 
Florence had seen at Coni and Savigliano. The 
affable expression he wore would not have frighten- 
ed a child. Florence greeted him pleasantly and 
entered on a conversation with him. He learned 
that this volunteer had just come from the out- 
posts of St. Germain, to be treated by a physician 
for a swelling vein in his right foot, that he be- 
longed to the Second Regiment of the Chasseurs of 
the Alps, that he was slightly acquainted with a 
certain Maso and a youth who was his constant and 
inseparable companion. Florence was beside him- 
self with joy. He forthwith invited the Chasseur 
to dine with him, and scarce had he set foot on the 
steps of the hotel than he saw Natalie and her 
servant maid returning to their rooms. Natalie, on 
catching a glance of the young soldier, could scarce 
contain herself. She drew out his bayonet through 
sheer curiosity, and proceeded to make a minute 
inspection of his entire uniform, asking meantime 
a volume of questions. It was wùtli no slight diffi- 
culty that the servant maid induced her to ascend 


190 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


the stairs, while Florence, proud of his conquest, 
introduced the young soldier into the parlor. It 
was precisely at this moment that Natalie knocked 
at the door of her mother’s room, requesting her to 
come and see the manner in which Julian was 
dressed. We can imagine the effect which that un- 
expected announcement produced on the heart of 
the countess. 

Natalie, the chevalier, and the steward had quite 
a difficult task to convince the countess of the 
reality. She could not lay aside her illusion, and 
imagined that they only wished to prepare her gen- 
tly and gradually for the happiness of once more 
seeing her son. Florence, to put an end to the 
matter, left the room, and returned accompanied 
by the soldier, whom he presented to .his mistress. 

On seeing him enter the door the countess rose 
from her seat, advanced a step or two, and stared at 
the young soldier with a half-dazed and uncertain 
look. Then, returning to her seat, she exclaimed ; 

0 Heaven ! chevalier, is my son disguised in 
this fashion ? ” 

The poor Garibaldian, taken somewhat aback by 
this strange recognition, blushed as red as a peony.' 
The chevalier, observing Ids confusion, took him 
by the hand in the most gracious manner, and 
then, whispering aside to the countess, said : 

“ Madame, this is the uniform Julian wears, but 
he does not probably resemble this boy.” 

Where do you come from, my friend ?” 

‘‘From Codogno, sir,” answered the soldier in a 
half- timid tone. 


The Hunter of the Alps. 19 1 

! yau arc a native of Lombardy ? I un- 
derstand that you arc acquainted with a 3oung 
Chasseur of your regiment, who is an intimate 
friend of a certain Maso ?” 

Yes, sir, we belong to the same battalion, but I 
have spoken little with him ; he keeps company 
with nobody.” 

But does he not keep company with the young 
man named Maso ? ” demanded Florence with an 
air of great self-sufficiency. 

‘‘ Oh ! certainly, sir ; he goes with no one else. 
Maso is a delicate youth, with auburn hair and blue 
eyes, and about my age, apparently.” 

‘‘And how old are you?” asked Leonie with 
emotion. 

“ Kot quite sixteen years.” 

“ Poor boy ! ” exclaimed the countess in the 
most commiserating manner. “ ITot sixteen 
years I And have you, too, run away from your 
mother to join the army ? ” 

“No, madame ; my father and mother arc dead. 
I was brought up by my aunt.” 

“What was your profession?” enquired the 
chevalier. 

“ I was a watchmaker in Pavia.” 

“ Oh ! what disastrous times we have fallen 
on,” sighed Leonie. 

Rising from her seat, she approached the young 
soldier, curiously examined his gray capote, his 
belt, helmet, and so forth; and then, observing 
that Natalie was gazing at him with a look of un- 
mixed compassion, remarked : 


.192 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


■ ‘^Behold, then, how Julian is — ^he who was 
wont to be so fastidous in the matter of dress that 
no one could please him. Ilo w he must suffer 
now !” 

Placing a gold piece in the hand of the volunteer, 
whose looks and condition excited her compassion, 
she accompanied him to the door, and took leave 
of him with the utmost politeness. 

It must be confessed that the countess felt deep- 
ly humiliated for having evinced such, emotion and 
having so far forgotten herself in the presence of 
the chevalier. She intensely regretted this weak- 
ness, so ill-befitting one of her rank and position. 
She accordingly hastened to apologize, alleging in 
extenuation ner strong maternal feelings. The 
courteous chevalier adroitly dissipated the painful 
effects of this excessive sensibility. At all events, 
she did not for a moment neglect the important af- 
fair that preoccupied her mind. After ’having 
communicated to Natalie the happyresult of her 
interview with the Minister of War, and joyously 
informed her that she would again see her brother 
on the morrow, she intimated to Florence that he 
had better prepare in all haste to accompany the 
chevalier. 

‘^But where is he ?” demanded Florence in a 
half-tremulous tone. 

Not far away ; somewhere in the vicinity of 
Biella.” 

Are there any Austrians round there ?” 

Yes, but at a considerable distance beyond.” 

What ! and in times like these you think it 


The Hunter of the Alps. 193 

would not be imprudent to adventure into tlie 
midst of hostile armies ? ” 

Oh ! don’t be afraid ; they will not hurt a hair 
of your head.” 

presume your excellency has procured a 
^ safe conduct ’ from the headquarters of General 
Garibaldi ? ” 

Most assuredly I have.” 

Come, riorence,” interposed the countess, 
you cannot refuse to make this slight sacrifice 
for the love of Julian and my happiness. The 
chevalier must be accompanied by somebody who 
will recognize Julian.” 

Ah ! madame, call you this a slight sacrifice ? 
To me it seems clear that for the past two months 
many, very many sacrifices have been made, and if 
they are slight I should like to know what great 
sacrifices are! But no matter; for the young, 
count I am willing to risk anything, provided, 
however, that it is certain we shall not be disap- 
pointed this time.” 

• ‘^As to that,” replied the chevalier, ‘‘we shall 
bring him back, cost what it may.” 

“ But do you tell me once more that we shall 
not run any danger in going to Biella ? ” 

“ I pledge you my word of honor.” 

About three o’clock in the afternoon, the. Cheva- 
lier Eugene and Florence' left Turin, taking the 
train for Biella, whence they proceeded to the 
locality where, according to the secret information 
the chevalier had received. Garibaldi’s corps was to 
bivouac for the night. Before starting, however. 


194 


The Himter of the Alps, 


they agreed with the countess that on the after- 
noon of the following day, May 22, she, her daugh- 
ter, and Madame Clotilda would proceed to Chivas- 
so. The train coming from Biella was expected to 
bring Julian, with whom they were all to return to 
Turin. 

This programme was carried out in its every de- 
tail. On Sunday afternoon the Countess Clotilda 
and Natalie, trembling with anxiety and expecta- 
tion, took the train for Chivasso. The absorbing 
topic of conversation among the passengers was the 
battle of Montebello, won by the French two days 
previously. But the mind of Leonie w’as so pre- 
occupied by the thought of again meeting her son 
in the course of a few hours that she seemed to be 
unconscious of everything passing around her. 




CHAPTER XXIV. 

DISAPPOI^TTMEKT. 

From Turin to Chivasso is less than an houPs 
run on the express train, and while the countess 
and her daughter are on the way the reader will 
kindly allow us to avail ourself of that brief space 
in order to inform him of the position of Garibaldi 
and his command at this time, and of the secret ex- 
pedition that had been entrusted to him. 

In 1859 the sword of this adventurer was not in 
the cause of Piedmont, to serve as a two-edged 
weapon, according to its good or evil success, as it 
was in 1860 on the occasion of the invasion of 
Sicily. 

In the war in 'Upper Italy, Garibaldi was em- 
ployed in the capacity of general, officially forming 
part of the regular army, and charged with the 
command of a body of troops which, while not 
regulars, were nevertheless created by the king and 
subjected to. the military laws of the state. On 
the occasion of the Sicilian expedition, on the con- 
trary, Garibaldi pretended to leave the kingdom 
and risk everything on his own account. 

195 


196 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


Although the ministers, Oayour arid Farini, had 
furnished him with ships, arms, aud funds, and 
the secret societies had made straight the paths of 
triumph by every means of corruption and treason, 
it was, nevertheless, agreed that Garibaldi was to 
act openly the role of bandit and not to become 
general under the White Cross of Savoy again, but 
on condition of first proving himself a successful 
filibuster. Fortune, ever to be won by gold, smiled 
on him, and the filibuster became once more not 
only a Sardinian general but the hero of the new 
Italy. 

How, it may be asked, could this proud dema- 
gogue deign to serve beneath the banner of a king ? 
To any one taking the trouble of considering the 
close alliance existing since 1856 between the Na- 
tional Society of Italy and the men who governed 
in the name of the King of Sardinia, the circum- 
stance will appear obvious. The two famous demo- 
crats, Georges Pallavicino Trivulce and Daniele 
Manin, were the founders of this society, of which 
Garibaldi soon became a prominent member. All 
the fervent idolaters of the Phrygian bonnet were 
its supporters. Its powerful protector, Count Ca- 
vour, augmented the society by allying to it the 
entire so-called Piedmontese faction, on the express 
condition, however, that himself and the Turin 
Government should hold in their hands the guiding 
reins of the conspiracy. The political unity of 
Italy, under the sceptre of the house of Savoy, was 
its principal object, but only so long as the 
house of Savoy would favor the Italian cause ” — 


The Hunter of the Alps. T97 

which signified tlial"., as soon as the time came 
for constituting Italy into a republic,” the house 
of Savoy would be unceremoniously relegated to 
the same category as that of Este, Lorraine, and 
Bourbon. This monstrous combination affords a 
key to the multitude of apparent contradictions 
witnessed at that period, to all the disturbances 
which subsequently took place, and clearly demon- 
strates why Garibaldi, the victim of the Mazzinian 
idea, pretended to serve the monarchy of Victor 
Emmanuel 11. in becoming the humble soldier of ^ 
a king. 

Count Cavour, who cherished the hope of using 
the Mazzinian party just as the monkey used the 
cat’s paw to draw the chestnuts out of the fire, 
admitted with hesitation Garibaldi and his fol- 
lowers into the ranks of the army, but arranged 
things so skilfully that this class of his supporters 
could not by their excesses bring disgrace and 
odium on the cause they sustained. To this end 
he mildly opposed the project of re-enforcing Gari- 
baldi’s troops by incorporating into them the Chas- 
seurs of the Apennines, another volunteer corps 
which was in garrison at Acqui. 

The sagacious minister lost no time in conferring 
on Garibaldi as many titles, military distinctions, 
privileges, and so forth, as were calculated to keep 
him within rein and prevent his ears from being 
seen in the dark. 

The brigade constituting the Chasseurs of the 
Alps was composed of three regiments, without 
any artillery or military trains, and numbered not 


198 The Hunter of the Alps. 

quite 3,500 men. It contained the flower of those 
troops who, in 1848 and 1849, fought against the 
Austrians during the insurrection in Lombardy, 
and subsequently at Rome against the Pope and 
the French. Nearly all the officers had been se- 
lected from among the heroes of this campaign ; 
the other soldiers were scarce worth mentioning, 

‘ save a few young men who, like J ulian and Maso, 
were led away through ignorance or inexperience. 
It may, therefore, be confidently affirmed that this 
brigade was composed of Republicans who would 
render valuable service in stirring up the people, 
but who formed a dangerous and uncontrollable 
class after victory was achieved. It was, then, by 
the exercise of the most exquisite sagacity that 
Cavour managed to employ this Garibaldian horde 
to molest the Austrians by stirring up insurrection 
in the surrounding provinces, and yet so hold them 
in check as to prevent them from prejudicing the 
royal cause. 

The point determined on by Garibaldi to harass 
the enemy, who occupied besides Lombardy all 
Lomellina, was the extremity of the right wing, 
which stretched to the shores of the Great Lake* 
Garibaldi was to pass the lake near the source of 
the Tessine, and with equal secrecy and celerity 
fling himself on the rear of the Austrians, raise the 
Lombard populations behind them, and so compel 
the enemy to detach a large portion of his forces, 
who would thus be separated from the principal 
theatre of action occupied by the allied armies. 
Accordingly, on the 18th of M:jy, he had secretly 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


199 


struck Lis camp at Capriasco. He marclied on Biel- 
la, and on the 20th proceeded in the most mysterious 
manner with his entire corps toward the dangerous 
vicinity of the lake. 

On the moment of her arrival at the station of 
Chivasso the Countess Leonie made immediate en- 
quiries as to the time when the Biella train would 
arrive. Having learned that she had still to wait 
several hours, she left the station, accompanied by 
the other two ladies, and visited the church. Then, 
after a pleasant walk, they returned to the station, 
and retired to a neatly-furnished room in a hotel 
hard by. The countess and Hatalie were in a state 
of feverish impatience. Madame Clotilda sought 
in vain to engage their attention by conversing on 
a variety of subjects. But neither could speak two 
consecutive sentences without referring to Julian. 
Question succeeded question with unceasing rapi- 
dity. 

How long yet have we to wait ? ” 

Where are they now ? ” 

What time is it ?” and so forth. 

To all these interrogations Madame Clotilda re- 
sponded in the most amiable and encouraging man- 
ner. 

Will Julian's friend come also ? ” asked Nata- 
lie. 

I hope so,” answered Leonie ; Count Cavour 
relieved them both from the army at my request’.’ 

And we shall restore him to his parents ? ” 

‘‘ We shall see ; have patience until they ar- 
rive.” 


200 The Hunter of the Alps, 

Oh I what will his mother say ? ” 

‘‘ Poor lady I none better than I can conceive 
her rapturous joy.’^ 

At length the hour arrived when the train was 
due ; in a moment a shrill whistle was heard and 
the train whirled into the station. The countess 
and Natalie, in a state of indescribable excitement, 
approached in all haste the passenger cars. The 
doors were flung open, a crowd of passengers rushed 
out ; madame eyed them keenly as they passed, 
but failed to observe either her husband or Flor- 
ence. 

She looked inside in each of the cars ; they were 
not there. Keturning to the countess, she remarked 
with simulated gayety and assurance : 

“ They will be on the next train ; they have not 
come on this. What do you purpose doing, madame 
— return to Turin or remain here till evening ? *’ 

“ Madame, we do not wish to cause you the slight- 
est inconvenience,” Leonie answered, in broken ac- 
cents, '^but I should like not to return without 
Julian.” 

^‘Then I shall be most happy to remain with 
you. But you must not be discouraged. Nothing 
has gone wrong ; it is at most but a few hours’ 
delay.” 

We shall not endeavor to describe the hours of 
agony which elapsed till the arrival of the next 
train. It was night when it got to the station. 
The chevalier leaped from the car, leaving Florence 
behind him. His wife rushed to his presence, and 
in a low tone asked : 


The Hunter of the Alps. 20 1 

Eugene, is he with you ?” 

Unfortunately he is not ; it is impossible to 
find him. We have been chasing around every- 
where, even to the headquarters at Borgomanero. 
Nobody knows what has become of Julian and 
Maso ; they have disappeared.” 

• ‘^0 heaven 1” exclaimed Clotilda, ^^do not tell 
the countess that ; do not deprive her of all hope ! 
Unhappy mother ! unhappy Natalie!” 





CHAPTER XXV. 


THE PEESBYTEEY.. 

Nestled among the mountains of the Lombard 
frontier, which divide the provinces of Varallo and 
Biella, is a pretty country yillage, whose church 
spire alone can he seen for any great distance. .Two 
travellers, footsore, wearied, and ragged, arrived 
there about ten o’clock p.m. on the evening of the 
21st of May. The weather was wet and disagree- 
able. It was so dark that when the two travellers 
sought the door of the presbytery they could scarce 
find it. The whole village was wrapt in the most 
profound silence. They could see no sign of life, 
nor hear aught else than their own unsteady steps 
and the heating of their own hearts. After much 
groping in the darkness they at length distinguish- 
ed a dickering ray of light through the window- 
shutters. 

‘"The pastor must he at home,” remarked one 
of the travellers in a whispering tone. 

And as he spoke he rapped gently outside. 

“Who’s there?” rang out a coarse and stem 
voice from within. 

“ Two of Victor Emmanuel’s soldiers.” 

202 


The Hu 7 iter of the Alps. 203 

Soldiers ? ” cried another voice, somewhat sur- 
prised. 

'^What brings you heie at so unseasonable an 
hour ? ” 

We are almost famished, with hunger ; we have 
lost our way, and are drenched through with the rain. 
We ask you as an act of charity to give us a piece 
of bread and let us sleep all night in your stable.” 

But who arc you ? ” 

We have already told you — two of the king’s 
soldiers.” 

^‘Soldiers who have lost your way — pursued, 
perhaps, by the Austrians ? ” 

‘‘No, father ; we missed our way while on the 
march.” 

“ I cannot let you in ; how do I know but that 
you are burglars ? ” 

“ Open the window and see for yourself.” 

“Oh! it is so,” exclaimed the priest, as he 
thrust his head out of the window, and scanned 
them with the light of a small blurred lamp. 

“ Will you not do something for us ? We are 
literally on the verge of starvation.” - 

“I observe by your accent that you are not Pied- 
montese.” 

“ We are volunteers ; you need not apprehend 
the slightest danger from us.” 

“Adelaide, open the door for these two poor 
soldiers,” said the priest, addressing his servant. 

She unlocked the door accordingly, grumbling, 
as she did so, at being troubled at so late an hour. 

Two young soldiers entered, with their knap- 


204 Hunter ef the Alps, 

sacks and rifles, but so drenched, mud-covered, 
and travel-worn that they presented anything but 
a prepossessing appearance. The priest, an aged 
man, tall and robust, of amiable manners and 
marked politeness, came forth from a small room 
near the foot of the stairway, holding a lighted 
lamp in his hand. Lifting it up, he saluted them 
and bid them welcome in a half-timid, half-confi- 
dent tone. 

‘‘Come this way, gentlemen; are your arms 
loaded 

“ No, sir,” they answered simultaneously. 

“ Put down your knapsacks and your muskets. 
Adelaide, light up a comfortable fire ; but first go 
down in the cellar and bring up a bottle of the 
best wine. Be quick, please ! ” 

As he spoke, the good priest went and assisted 
the two soldiers to unfasten their belts and straps, 
which the wet and mud had almost stuck to their 
jackets. The two youths thanked him for his 
kindness in the most gracious terms. 

“ You appear to me to be young men who have 
been well brought up,” he exclaimed. 

“Yes, father,” answered one of them; “my 
friend here is a count of the Eomagna, and I am 
a native of Lunesa.” 

“ A count ! ” exclaimed the curé, as he opened 
wide his eyes in wonder. “ Do you hear that, 
Adelaide ?” he continued, as the servant entered, 
bearing on a tray two huge goblets filled with 
wine. “ This is a count of the Eomagna, and this 
other is a wealthy gentleman.” 


The llimttr of the Alps. 


205 


jnsfc thought so myself from their appear- 
ance,” replied the servant with an air of assurance. 
‘‘ But who are those soldiers ? ” 

‘^Volunteers,” answered the count. 

“ To what body of troops do you belong ? ” asked 
the priest. 

“ The Chasseurs of the Alps.” 

“A new corps, doubtless ?” 

“ Yes,” added the soldier. “ But we will ex- 
plain all that to you by and by.” 

“ If the gentlemen wish to dry and warm them- 
selves, there is a sparkling fire now,” added the 
servant. 

“In a moment; drink that wine, you need it, 
and then go and dry your dripping clothes.” 

The two youths emptied the goblets with avidity. 
Then, returning to the dining-room, where they 
found a comfortable fire, they seated themselves 
before it, and looked at one another with a glance 
which seemed to say, “ We have fallen into good 
quarters at last.” 

The good priest, after a few moments’ conversa- 
tion, begged to be allowed to withdraw for a few 
minutes in order to complete some unfinished 
letters, but gave orders before retiring to his study 
to prepare in all haste for them a good supper. 

We left Julian and Muso at the station of San 
Germano ready, after having received their de- 
spatches, to start with their regiment to Biella. 
Maso had harbored his secret since their departure 
from Capriasco. . Nevertheless, Julian strongly 
suspected that he contemplated desertion. For 


2o6 The Htmtcr of the Alps, 

several days ne liad conceived ilie project, as his 
sore and swollen feet preventèd him from following 
his battalion in the forced marches. He purposed 
taking some unfrequented byroad in company 
with Julian, throwing aside his uniform, and 
putting on an ordinary peasant’s garb. It was a 
hold and dangerous idea, but the letters he had re- 
ceived at San Germano determined him to act on 
it. Besides, Maso’s father had just arrived at 
Turin, and it was probable that Julian’s mother 
and sister would be there likewise. They would pro- 
cure substitutes for them, and then all difficulties 
.were ended. The thought of thus putting a speedy 
end to their toils and hardships was so welcome to 
Julian that, in an outburst of enthusiasm, he 
warmly grasped the hand of his friend on learning 
that he intended deserting. 

Although their time was pretty well occupied at 
Biella in the performance pi drill and patrol duty, 
yet they managed to arrange matters for their de- 
parture in a satisfactory manner. They agreed to 
write a letter addressed to their parents- at Turin, 
informing them of their desertion from the army, 
'and to post it at the first village they would meet, 
after having dropped their uniform. They then 
purposed proceeding during the night to the next 
railway station, taking the first train for Genoa, 
and from thence starting for Leghorn. As the 
two thousand francs that Julian had. received at 
Ponte Stura were as yet untouched, and as Maso 
had spent only a hundred and thirty-eight francs 
of the five hundred he had received at Savigliano, 


The Hunter of the Alps, 207 

tlie lads bad plenty of money to defray their travel- 
ling expenses. 

On the 20th of May the brigade left Biella and 
proceeded to Gattinara, where it bivouacked. On 
the following morning it crossed the Sesia on a 
bridge which Garibaldi had thrown across the 
stream at Romagnano, and took the Bergamo road. 
Here it was that our two bold comrades deserted. 
They struck for the mountains, following an unfre- 
quented road. They intended to disguise them- 
selves in jieasant’s garb at the first village they 
should arrive at. . For some time back they had 
been accustomed to march in rear of the regiment. 
And now on the banks of the Dora the two aristo- 
crats, the paper soldiers, as they were contemp- 
tuously called, were left far behind by- their com- 
rades. It will, therefore, be easily understood that, 
if they failed in their object, they would have a 
plausible excuse before their superior ofiBcers, in 
pretending that they lost their way. Besides, it 
was no unusual occurrence for their comrades to go 
astray in the precipitate rush made by Garibaldi 
from Biella to Borgomanero. 

Our two heroes, fugitives rather than deserters, 
left the main highway. The intense heat of the 
forenoon had unnerved them, and a plunging rain- 
storm which came- on in the evening did not add to 
their comfort. Had they not accidentally struck 
the little village referred to, it is possible that they 
would both have perished in the wild and tangled 
mountain gorges. 

After a brief absence the charitable priest re-' 


208 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


turned to the hall where his two guests were com- 
fortably seated before the fire, drying their drenched 
garments. He could not get rid of his astonish- 
ment on seeing these two youths, of such tender 
age and distinguished families, serving as volun- 
teers. But his amazement was unspeakable on 
learning that they were Garibaldians. Happily, 
at this moment Adelaide, who came in and an- 
nounced that supper was ready, interrupted him in 
his melancholy contemplation. 

hope ynu will excuse me, gentlemen,” re- 
marked the priest, as he took his place between his 
two guests at the table. You came unexpected- 
ly, and, as you were jaded and hungry, the servant 
did not take time to prepare you a very sumptuous 
supper. You must for the present be content with 
what you see before you.” 

Why, this is a royal supper,” answered Ma*so. 

If you but knew what sharpened appetites we 
have just now.” 

^^Yes, we are not over-fastidious at present,” 
added Julian, as he tumbled three or four enor- 
mous omelettes on to his plate ; and I hope, 
father, you will not be shocked if we do not observe 
for the time being all the formalities and rules of 
etiquette.” 

This is both dinner and supper for us,” con- 
tinued Maso. ‘^We have travelled over twenty 
miles without tasting either food or drink.” 

During the meal the conversation was such as 
would naturally, take place between an inquisitive 
and astonished man and two starvelings just ad- 


The Hunter of the Alps. 209 

mittcd to a feast. However, when the dessert was 
placed on the table, from which the last crumb had 
disappeared, and their appetites had been in a 
measure appeased, Maso, whose mild and graceful 
manner had won the affection and sympathy of the 
good priest who had given them so cordial a recep- 
tion, observed : 

Father, we would like to have your advice on 
an important matter which concerns us, but under 
the strictest secrecy.” 

Oh ! certainly ; you are welcome to my humble 
services in regard to anything I can do for you.” 

Well, Julian, you explain that little affair to 
his reverence while I am bidding good-by to this 
piece of cheese.” 

Father, you see before you two boys who ran 
away from home and enlisted in the army. For 
two long months we have subjected our parents to 
the intensest agony. On hearing that war had 
broken out they wrote us, and doubtless they have 
ere this arrived in Turin to procure substitutes for 
us and effect our exemption from further military 
service. We have got enough of soldiering already, 
in fact a little more than we bargained for, and we 
are burning with the desire to reach home again. 
To accomplish that desire we escaped from our 
regiment a short while ago. Can you tell us how 
we can change our clothing ?” 

‘‘ Then you are deserters !” exclaimed the priest, 
quite astonished. 

‘‘JSTo, not deserters ; we are fugitives,” answered 
Maso. Our lives arc dearer to us than ihe ag- 


210 The Hunter of the Alps. 

grandizement of the house of Savoy. Besides, we 
wanted, to get away from the rabble rout among 
whom we were unfortunately cast.” 

“ JN^o, no, my dear boys ; you are acting the most 
foolish part conceivable. Count, do you not know 
that, under this Government, deserters in time of 
war are condemned to the galleys ? ” 

‘^The galleys I ” exclaimed Julian, taken some- 
what aback. 

‘‘ Yes ; and that is the least penalty, too, for fre-. 
quently they are shot, to serve as an example to 
others.” 

‘^Oh ! that’s nothing,” answered Maso with 
nonchalance. ‘^We need not care now; we are 
free.” 

Tree ! ” exclaimed Julian, growing pale as 
marble. The first thing we’ll know is that we’ll 
be pounced upon, and then — ” 

My good friends,” interposed the priest, ^^you 
have not as yet deserted. On the march it fre- 
quently happens that men lose track of their regi- 
ment and get astray. If your parents have gone 
to Turin for the purposè of effecting your exemp- 
tion from service, they will, of course, come to an 
understanding with the Minister of War ; and in 
that case your desertion from the army would be an 
incorrigible blunder. If, then, you have any re- 
gard for your own lives, the happiness of your pa- 
rents and friends, or your liberties, you will rejoin 
jour regiment at the earliest possible moment. If 
\our parents should at present make application 
through the Turin military authorities to head- 


The Hunter of the Alps. 21 1 

q^uarters for your liberation, wbat, think you, would 
be the result ? Why, confusion, disappointment, 
and unspeakable grief.” 

Your reverence is right,” answered Maso. 
‘‘If our parents do not find us with our regi- 
ment when they make application at headquarters. 
Heaven only knows what will happen.” 

“ But we have resolved to write home and in- 
form them of what we have done,” replied Julian. 

“Take my advice, and renounce all idea of de- 
sertion,” replied the good priest. 

“ But how can we rejoin our regiment ? ” 

“Oh ! that’s easier than you imagine. General 
Garibaldi cannot as yet have marched beyond 
Arona. To-morrow morning, after Mass, you will 
breakfast with me, and I will procure a carriage 
and have you driven to the vicinity where the 
troops are encamped. You can then find your 
regiment, and at most you will be only regarded as 
stragglers who lagged behind and lost their way. 
Do you not approve of my suggestion ?” 

“ I think,” answered Maso, “it is the most pru- 
dent course we can take. What say you, Julian ? ” 
“ I agree with you.” 

It is the only means left you to get out of your 
difficulty, my friends,”. added the priest as he rose 
from the table. “ You may now retire to your 
room and take a good night’s rest. We shall talk 
the matter over at greater length in the morning.” 

Though deeply disappointed, they determined to 
follow the prudent advice of the worthy priest, as 
in their present situation it was the only safe course 


212 The Hunter of the Alps. 

they could adopt. On the following morning, 
which was Sunday, after having assisted at Mass 
and partaken of a hearty breakfast, they entered 
the carriage waiting them at the door, and took 
leave of the charitable pastor, after having induced 
him, after much reluctance, to accept a hundred 
francs for the poor of his parish. 




CHAPTER XXVI. 

DESPAIR. 

The good priest acted with consummate wisdom 
in reprimanding the two fugitives and apprising 
them of the risk they were incurring. They had 
left their regiment on the very day that Count Ca- 
vour’s despatch was lianded to the commandant of 
the brigade, ordering him to have them detained 
at Cattinara or Romagnano, and about ten hours 
before the Chevalier Eugene and Florence arrived 
on the spot to bring them back to Turin. If, in- 
stead of deserting with his friend, Julian had wait- 
ed patiently, in following closely on the rear of his 
regiment, he would doubtless have received his dis- 
missal and been restored to his mother. In act- 
ing as he did, however, he lost the favorable oppor- 
tunity. While the chevalier was seeking him on 
all sides, even in the headquarters of Garibaldi, Ju- 
lian was wandering among the rocks and mountain 
ravines. Weighed down with anxiety and disap- 
pointment, the Cbevalier Eugene returned to Biel- 
la on Sunday morning, after having searched every 
conceivable spot with assiduous industry, but with- 
out the slightest success. Julian, meantime, was 
213 


214 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


travelling afc hazard, following the traces of the en- 
campments, and fully convinced that he was skirt- 
ing the Lombard frontier, and that the general 
might cross it at any moment. But no one is a 
prophet in this world. 

The ehevalier had now but a slender thread of 
hope to offer the countess in order to prevent her 
from giving herself up to grief and despair. He 
assured her that she would, in all likelihood, meet 
her son on the morrow, or the day following at 
furthest. But was he sure of it himself ? He con- 
fined himself to the hope that on the arrival of his 
regiment at Borgomanero Julian would find the 
order to return to Turin with his companion, and 
at the same time a note from Florence bearing the 
address of the hotel where his mother was staying. 
Such was the sole hope left to the chevalier, who, 
sustained by Florence, whom he had carefully in- 
strueted regarding the affair, exercised every means 
to restore the grief-strieken countess to that happi- 
ness and hope which she had lost at Chivasso. 
During all Sunday evening the countess scarce 
tered a word, and remained as if buried in a kind 
of stupor. She had entered the ear at the station, 
and descended at Turin apparently unconscious of 
what she was doing. She spoke incohere.4ly and 
at random, intermingling the name of Julian wiih 
almost every sentence, totally unconscious of the 
time, place, or persons around her. The chevalier 
and his good wife were unable to mitigate her poig- 
nant grief. Leonie neither listened to nor under- 
stood what they said. Florence scarce knew wbat 


The Hunter of the Alps, 215 

to think. No voice save that of her daughter 
uioiie could command the attention of Leonie. 
But the j)oor girl, after having given herself up to 
an excessive hope, was so overcome by the recent 
disappointment that she, too, was in almost as 
pitiable a condition as her mother, to whose- pain 
she but added by her own demonstrations of grief. 

Natalie,” said the countess at a late hour, 
while holding in her hand Julian’s last letter, ‘‘ I 
wish you would try and sleep ; you need a little re- 
pose after all our toil and trouble. To-morrow we 
shall repair to the church and pray for the eternal 
rest of Julian’s soul, for I feel convinced that he is 
dead.” 

Yes, mother,” replied Natalie, not having un- 
derstood, in her reverie, what her mother had said, 
“ we shall start to-morrow ta where the army is 
encamped. Who knows but that we shall find 
him ? ” 

My daughter,” answered Leonie, it is impos- 
sible ; I could never survive the journey. Julian, 
I fear, is no longer among the living. I hope that 
God will pardon him. Julian was ever the soul of 
virtue and goodness, and if he did rebel against me, 
most likely through my fault, this letter is a suffi- 
cient pledge of his repentance. I feel that I shall 
soon follow him, and then you, my dear child, will 
be left alone.” 

So absorbed was Natalie in other thoughts that 
she paid but little attention to what her mother 
said. After having embraced Leonie, who pressed 
her to her bosom and kissed her tenderly, she rc- 


2i6 


The Hunter of the Alp^. 


tired, not indeed to snatch an hour of repose, hut 
to pour forth her supplications to Heaven, now her 
only remaining consolation. Neither could the 
countess think of taking any rest. She sat up all 
night in her room, imploring God for comfort and 
consolation and bewailing the loss of her son. 

She was haunted jjerpetually by a melancholy 
presentiment that he was dead, a victim to fatigue 
and hardship, or slain in battle. This thought 
flung her into a paroxysm of unutterable grief. 
She was consumed with the burning desire of see- 
ing him once more, were it but for a passing mo- 
ment, were it but to bid him a final, an eternal fare- 
well ! 

Who had given rise to this melancholy suspi- 
cion ? No one. It sprang up spontaneously the 
moment she saw that her long and anxious attempt 
had failed. Nor was it a transient feeling, that 
vanished with the rapidity it came. Like a barbed 
arrow it penetrated her very soul, wounding and 
rending her most delicate and tender affections. 
The chevalier and his worthy lady could not banish 
the cruel thought from her mind, despite their 
persistent and plausible efforts. 

Ah I did Julian but know that his mother 
mourned him that night as dead ! 

Having arrived, on the Sunday evening already 
mentioned, at a country tavern situated between 
Ameno and Gozzano, in the environs of Arona, 
Julian and Maso learned that the bulk of their 
brigade was encamped in the vicinity. They ac- 
cordingly informed the driver that he might now' re- 


The Htinter of the Alps, 217 

turn home, and they themselves put up at the lit- 
tle inn for the night. Julian was within five miles 
of Borgomanero, where an officer was stationed 
whose duty it was to pick up and convey stragglers 
to the camp. This officer had the welcome papers 
relieving J ulian and Maso from further military 
duty, together with the note left by Florence. 
One of Chevalier Eugene’s acquaintances remained 
with the officer, and was continually on his tenter- 
hooks lest they should pass by unobserved. But un- 
happily Julian did not go that way. On the fol- 
lowing morning, May 23 , Julian and Maso, having 
learned that the Chasseurs of the Alps were en- 
camped at Castelletto, they took the shortest and 
most direct route to the camp, and arrived just at 
the moment the rear guard crossed the river Tessine. 

Once over, it was impossible for them to get 
back. The Austrian war vessels had steamed to 
the mouth of the lake, where they anchored in 
threatening proximity. J ulfan and Maso arrived 
at Sesto-Calena just as Garibaldi had passed out 
of it with the main body of his troops, in march for 
Varese. They leaped into a wagon, and followed 
the column so closely that, notwithstanding the 
rain and storm, they entered the city a few mo- 
ments after the rearmost ranks. Deafened by the 
incessant crashing of the thunder and the joyous 
shouts of the population, who with bands and 
torchlights welcomed the arrival of the Garibal- 
dians, our two friends cast at each other a mutual 
glance, which seemed to say, Alas ! how often do 
the brightest hopes vanish into air.^’ 


CHAPTEK XXVII. 


YAKESE. 

The sudden entrance of Garibaldi into Lom- 
bardy was unquestionably a bold enterprise. The 
entire lake was in the hands of the Austrians; 
their fleet furrowed its waves, and from the summit 
of their fortresses their artillery commanded its 
shores. Accordingly, to cross it, it was necessary 
to select a narrow passage, hidden from view, and 
terminating at a point the least guarded on the 
opposite shore. Garibaldi chose for his purpose 
the bend formed by Ifie Tessine after it issues from 
the lake, on its course toward Castelletto. But, 
to accomplish his object successfully it was indis- 
pensably necessary that the inhabitants living along 
the shore, and especially the boatmen, should lend 
him assistance and not disclose the secret of his 
position. The partisans of Piedmont, affiliated to 
the committees and secret societies, were of incalcu- 
lable service. Not only did they furnish Garibaldi 
with boats and rowers, but they kept him informed 
of every movement of the enemy. They facilitated 
his entry into Lombardy especially, by stirring 
up in his favor the towns, communes, and villages 


The Hunter of the Alps. 219 

iu proportion as lie advaticod. Endowed with ex- 
traordinary boldness, he ventured with a handful 
of men, poorly disciplined and badly equipped, 
into a country defended by powerful garrisons, 
which by closing on him would crush him with 
scai’cely an effort. G-aribaldi was entirely cut off 
from the Franco-Sard inian army. General Cialdi- 
ni’s division, which was the nearest to him, was 
distant at least some twenty-five or thirty miles. 
The Austrian corps, which occupied the territory 
between Novare and the Sesia and Agogna, sepa- 
rated him from Garibaldi. 

It is likewise worthy of remark that the Pied- 
montese, and especially the French, generals looked 
upon Garibaldi’s expedition with no favorable eye. 
Several among them openly declared that they 
would not in any event or under any circumstances 
lend him the slightest assistance. 

On the other hand, when on the shore of L ike 
Maggiore, the adventurer could not re^y on the 
treachery of the Austrian commanders, as he did at 
a subsequent period in Sicily, on the traitorous 
generals of the King of Kaples. Keithcr was he 
protected by English vessels and the Sardinian fleet 
in his endeavor to effect the conqu' st of Yarese, as 
he w'as at Marsala, where he fought not so much 
with sword and bayonet as with Sardinian gold. 

Against the Austrians gold was of no avail. The 
treachery which bound the brow of the filibuster 
with Sicilian laurels did .not smile on him when 
in presence of the Austrian legions. Ilis only re- 
liance there Avas on the assis'aned and co-operation 


220 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


of the abettors of the insurrection ; on a general up- 
rising of the people whom they had enlisted in his 
favor, and, in case of disaster, a sure and speedy 
retreat across the Swiss frontier. Under these cir- 
cumstances, it will be admitted that Garibaldi 
evinced wonderful boldness and intrepidity in brav- 
ing such terrible and threatening dangers. 

The uprising of the town of Varese, which was 
followed by that of all the circumjacent villages, 
proved that the adventurer was not deceived in his 
anticipations. At the announcement of the ap- 
proach of the Chasseurs of the Alps, the small 
force of Austrians who were in garrison at Varese 
fell back towards Gallarate. The citizens, inspired 
by the chiefs of the committee, rose uj^ in wild 
tumult, pulled down the Austrian flag, and flung 
to the breeze the banner of Savoy. The new 
government was proclaimed, and the more en- 
thusif^stic of the insurgenls rushed forth, despite 
the intolerable state of the weather, to meet and 
welcome the new-comers. Overcome with fatigue 
and famished with hunger, the latter needed some- 
thing more substantial than good wdshes and shouts 
of welcome. 

Our two young friends had to rise early on the 
following morning and go on picket duty till noon 
at some distance from the town, on the Induno 
road, in company with six others of their batta- 
lion. On their way they made an Austrian sol- 
dier prisoner, who only surrendered after a despe- 
rate and furious defence. During the melee h<< 
would certainly have killed Julian with a slash of 


The Hunter of the Alps. 221 

liis sabre bad the blow not been parried by a corpo- 
ral in its descent. Having secured their prisoner, 
they kicked him and clubbed him with their mus- 
kets in the most brutal manner. This act of 
savagery shocked Julian so intensely that he flung 
himself on the prostrate soldier and induced his 
companions to desist ; and then, taking his place 
beside the Austrian, he guarded him against all 
danger and ill-treatment till their arrival in camp. 

Toward the close of the same day Julian was seated 
before a small table in a café hard by the camp 
much resorted to by the soldiers. He was sadly 
conning over the letter that his sister and mother 
had addressed him from Chambery, and contem- 
plating with affection the precious portraits that 
accompanied it. Maso, seated at the other side of 
the taWe, was eagerly reading the war news in the 
Milan journals. An officer of their company, hap- 
pening to pass by at the moment, got a glimj^se of 
them, and, quickly turning round, exclaimed : 

Halloo ! where the deuce have you two fellows 
come from ? ” 

‘‘We fell back a little behind the regiment when 
on march,” answered Julian, as he placed the let- 
ter in his pocket. “We were wearied and footsore 
and could not keep up, and finally arrived here 
after the others as best we could.” 

“ That’s all right ; but how does it come that 
while at Borgomanero you did not get the o'’der 
awaiting you to return to Turin ? ” 

“ What order ?” demanded Maso, rising from his 
seat in astonishment. 


222 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


Why, do you not know that two gentlemen, 
bearing a ministerial despatch, came after you, 
having obtained your exemption from further ser- 
vice ?” 

“ No ; no one ever breathed a word of it to us,” 
answered Julian excitedly. 

‘‘The deuce they didn’t ! Have you not been at 
Borgomanero ? ” 

“No; we left it on our right, having taken a 
more direct route in order to overtake the rear- 
guard at Castelletto,” replied Maso. 

“ So much the worse for you, then. It is all over 
now ; you are too late,” answered the officer witli a 
half-sardonic smile. And as he spoke he passed 
out. 

Ic were impossible to describe the disappointment 
experienced by the two young soldiers at this mo- 
ment. Julian dashed out into the street after the 
officer, and continued to importune and question 
him, till he finally learned that Florence and a 
strange gentleman arrived at Borgomanero on the 
Saturday night previous, and that his mother was 
awaiting him at Turin. But he learned at the 
same time that all means of getting back to Pied- 
mont were cut off. Maso was convinced that the 
strange gentleman was none other than his father. 

Their regrets and complaints on learning the op- 
portunity they had lost are indescribable. 

“ Oh ! confound that priest. Had he not dis- 
suaded us from our purpose we should be at home 
all right ere this,” exclaimed Julian in a burst of 
uncontrollable anger. 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


223 


‘‘ You are wrong,” replied Maso ; be gave us 
the best advice that could be offered us. We our- 
selves are to blame. Our great mistake lies in our 
having left the regiment on the march.” 

“ We cannot even write home now,” replied Ju- 
lian. We are completely surrounded by the Aus- 
trains ; all communications are cut off. Natalie 
and my mother can never survive this.” 

They remained awake all night, talking over 
their ill-fortune and recent disappointment. In 
the excess of their despair they conceived the idea 
of again deserting, but the difficulty forthwith pre- 
sented itself. How could it be done ? and whither 
could they go ? The Austrians had surrounded 
them on all sides. On the 25th of May the ene- 
my’s cannon opened a heavy fire on a battalion of 
Garibaldians commanded by Captain de Cristoforis, 
and drove them from the G-allarate road, while the 
advance guard of an Austrian column occupied 
Sesto Calende and took possession of the road on 
the Sardinian bank of the Tessine. Early the same 
day the spies brought to headquarters the intelli- 
gence that General Hurban was moving down from 
Camerlala with a strong body of troops to recap- 
ture Varese, and that the Chasseurs of the Alps 
would ere many minutes be furiously attacked. 
The whole brigade, accordingly, prepared for im- 
mediate action. 

The town of Varese, containing about eight 
thousand inhabitants, is situate at the foot of 
that pleasant range of hills which stretch along 
the southern side of the Campo dei Fiori (field of 


224 


The Hìmter of the Alps. 


flowers) and lose themselves in the wide-spread plain 
of Lombard}^ The environs of Varese are studded 
-with charming villas, teeming orchards, and fra- 
grant gardens, whither the wealthy Milanese come 
j early to spend the pleasant summer months. The 
town is built on the shore of the lovely lake to which 
it gives its name, and is but a short distance from 
lakes Maggiore, Como, and Lugano, all of which 
pour down from the Alps to irrigate and fertilize 
those rich and pleasant valleys which form the 
earthly paradise of Upper Italy. Several roads 
converge to Varese, whose soil is likewise bathed by 
the waters of the Vallone, which flows through it, 
and the river Olona, which passes close to the fau- 
bourg of Biumo. This faubourg, divided into 
Upper and Lower Biumo, lies to the south of the 
town, and extends some distance up a rich and 
flowery slope. It commands the two roads of 
Como and Induno, which are protected by the 
fortresses of Belfort and Boscaccio. 

After a lengthy consultation with his most ex- 
perienced officers Garibaldi determined to adopt 
a double system of defence. He constructed 
solid bastions on the slope of Biumo, and thus 
commanded the roads leading to Gallarate, 
Milan, and Como ; built barricades, and made 
a number of openings in walls of the villas, at 
the foot of which he dug deep trenches, surrounded 
with palisades and piles to prevent the approach 
of cavalry. He took similar precautions on the 
road between Biumo and the town proper, where 
he constructed defences of such a nature as to 


The HiLnter of the Alps. 225 

enable his troops to effect a safe retreat by the In- 
duno road in the event of their being overpowered 
and driven out by the Austrians. Colonel Cosenz 
commanded the right of the line, Colonel Medici 
the left, and Colonel Arduino the centre. Major 
Bixio, with the second battalion of the second 
regiment, held the town. 

It is hardly necessary to state that the volun- 
teers had but little time for repose that night. 
Each and every one was busied in throwing up 
earth-works, constructing fascines, digging trench- 
es, and making preparations for the approaching 
attack. At early dawn each company assumed its 
position and silently awaited the advance of the 
enemy. 

Julian was squatted behind a redoubt of Lower 
Biumo, on the outer line of defence, and from his 
position was dangerously exposed to the enemy’s fire. 
We need hardly say that his heart beat fitfully at 
that momeqt. His only remaining consolation was 
the presence of Maso, who, forgetful of himself, 
encouraged and animated Julian incessantly. 

‘‘Where shall we be a few hours hence?” 
asked Julian in a tremulous, whispering tone. 

“ Wherever God wills ; don’t be afraid, at all 
events.” 

“ Afraid ? No ; I do not tear for myself. 
Death has no terrors for me.” 

“Keep quiet, then ; one would think that you 
were the only one in the regiment incurring any 
danger. Brace yourself up, and let fate do its 
worst,” 


220 The Hunter of the Alps, 

1 repeat tliat I do not in the least care for 
myself; it is tlie ungrateful manner in wliicli I 
abandoned my mother and sister that pains me — I, 
who should have been their protector and stay. 
Do you imagine, in presence of such thoughts, I 
can contemplate death imperturbably 

That I clearly understand ; but this is no time 
to bo absorbed in such thoughts ; it is now too 
late. Meantime, if I am so unfortunate as to get 
killed, I want you to take this small locket I 
wear, send it to my parents, and tell them all 
about me and how I died. Is there anything in 
the same event that you wish me to do for you 
‘^Yes; I want you to see me buried, and not 
left above ground ; and also to go to ray mother’s 
residence and tell her and Natalie what happened 
me, where my body is laid, and that their images 
were enshrined in my heart till it ceased to beat. 
You will likewise tell my mother, but her alone, 
that she has been most atrociously deceived by a 
certain malevolent member of our family ; for 
those accursed camellias were not given me by 
Beatrice at all, but by her father ; and my only 
reason for accepting them was to present them to 
Natalie, who, I knew, always delighted in flowers. 
You will also tell her that I — ” 

Here the quick step of General Garibaldi, who 
was making a final survey of the defences, Avas 
heard, and cut short the conversation. Garibaldi 
took in the entire surroundings with a calm, un- 
ruffltd look, stroked his long beard, and smiled in 
an approving sort of way ; and then, turning 


The Hunter of the Alps. 227 

quickly around, tapped Maso on the shoulder, with 
the remark : ‘‘ Courage, boys, courage ; keep cool 
and stand firm/’ He then proceeded to the sum- 
mit of Biumo. 

Everybody observed an unbroken silence. 

Maso,” said Julian after a lengthy interval, “ if 
I fall take Natalie’s watch from my pocket and 
keep it. I give it to you.” 

‘‘Nevermind; there isn’t the slightest danger 
of either of us. We’ll laugh at all this by and by.” 

Scarce had he uttered these words when a thun- 
derous detonation was heard, and three fiaming 
rockets shot up toward the heavens. 

It was the signal for the Austrian troops, who 
had stealthily approached the Garibaldian defences, 
to rush to the assault. 



CHAPTEK XXVIII. 


THE FIKST FIKE. 

The forces that General Hurban had detached 
from his division for the recapture of Varese were 
composed, according to the Prussian Eustow, of 
two battalions of Kellner of Kollenstein’s regi- 
ment, four companies of Confinari, and two squa- 
drons of Haller’s hussars, with two half -batteries — 
in all about three thousand fantassins, some two 
hundred cavalry, and eight pieces of artillery. 
Were these forces adequate to the task of recaptur- 
ing a town occupying an admirable strategic posi- 
tion, and defended by upwards of three thousand 
men, protected by excèlle nt works? Evidently 
not. Numbers being equal, the besieged has ever 
the advantage of the besieger, especially if the at- 
tack is sudden and the defence well planned and 
carefully prepared. 

True, the Austrians possessed an immense advan- 
tage in the perfection of their arms, particularly 
their artiller^q of which the Garibaldians had 
none. But artillery and arms of long range are of 
no great service in a hand-to-hand struggle. Be- 
sides, the ground offered excellent advantages to 
238 


The Hunter of the. Alps, 229 

the besieged for ambuscades and sorties. It is, 
therefore, conspicuously clear that General Hurban 
committed an egregious mistake either in conclud- 
ing that his weak force, already broken down with 
long marching, could achieve prodigies of valor, or 
in despising the Chasseurs of the Alps, who, to 
maintain their position behind redoubts and barri- 
cades, did not require the courage of the heroes of 
Thermopylae or Marathon. 

The Austrian general, with his small command, 
approached Varese by the Camerlata road. On ar- 
riving at Olgiate he despatched a detachment of 
grenadiers on the Induno road, with orders to pro- 
tect the right wing of the main body of the troops 
and gain the heights of Biumo, thus catting off the 
Garibaldians from their only line of retreat in case 
of defeat. Further on, between Binago and Mai- 
nate, and adjacent to San Stivatore, he stationed 
his reserves ; then with his remaining force he 
marched directly on the town. The scouts that 
Garibaldi had sent out to Mainate during the night 
to watch the movements of the enemy were made 
prisoners, and were thus prevented from sounding 
the alarm at Varese. Hurban gained the fau- 
bourg of Biumo unobserved, and at early dawn his 
presence was announced by the roar of his artillery. 
As fortune would have it. Garibaldi’s volunteers 
were ready for action at the moment of the first 
discharge of the Austrian guns, and the general 
himself, ascending the summit of Biumo, was able 
to survey without difficulty every movement of the 
enemy. 


230 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


Scarce had the three rockets shot into the air 
when a raking discharge of musketry issued from 
a thicket in front of Belfort, where a company of 
the Chasseurs were lying in ambuscade. After this 
volley directed against the advancing column of the 
enemy the company speedily fell back, and, skirt- 
ing the Vallone, took up their position within the 
redoubt. At this moment the Austrian artillery 
began to batter the works of Lower Biumo, while 
the voltigeurs, forming line, vigorously repulsed 
the right and left wings of the Garibaldians. 

The roar of cannon and rattle of musketry filled 
the air ; the town bells wildy rang out the tocsin, and 
the Austrians, with steady, stubborn step, advanced 
to the assault. The besieged, on the other hand, 
firm, silen t, determined, and sheltered behind the pa- 
rapets, received that storm of fire, and calmly await- 
ed the approach of their assailants. The general 
had issued rigorous orders not to open fire till the 
enemy had arrived within pistol-shot range. The 
order was strictly observed. When within about 
fifty paces of the works, the voltigeurs were re- 
ceived with a withering volley of musketry. The 
cheers of rage and defiance were redoubled on either 
side ; the scream of shot and shell heralded death 
in every direction ; the smoke in dense, heavy 
masses obscured the sunlight, and in a few mo- 
ments the entire slope of Biumo had assumed the 
aspect of a mimic hell. 

The Austrians winced for an instant before this 
murderous fusillade, but then rallied bravely, and, 
amid a plun gin g s tor m of fi ro, fl u n g t hemsel ves on the 


The Hunter of the Alps, 231 

outer line of works, which they speedily demolish- 
ed. But the timely and vigorous sorties of the vo- 
lunteers, simultaneously delivered at various points, 
prevented them from penetrating to the inner line. 
Meantime the feeble detachment of grenadiers 
who had advanced to the capture of Upper Biumo, 
after haviug been met with a well-directed volley 
of musketry, were hurled back by a vigorous bayo- 
net charge. Finally, after a desperate struggle 
of two hours’ duration, in which both sides gave 
proof of unflinching courage. General Hurban was 
constrained to sound the retreat, and await the ar- 
rival of reinforcements before renewing the at- 
tack. 

Garibaldi, now emboldened by success, gave or- 
ders to pursue the enemy, and harass him on his 
retreat us far as the rocks of San Salvatore, where 
the reserves were stationed and in readiness. 

Then began a scries of fierce attacks, skirmishes, 
and encounters with the rear-guard, which rudely 
taught the Austrians that the Chasseurs of the 
Alps were more numerous than they imagined. By 
this means Garibaldi succeeded in keeping secure 
his line of retreat from Varese, where he could no 
longer rt-main without running the risk of a disas- 
trous defeat. 

This conflict, at flrst waged with terrible ferocity 
and violence, lasted till the afternoon. The Ita- 
lians fought with unsurpassed bravery, and their 
officers gave evidence of remarkable boldness and 
sagacity ; all the more, indeed, as they w’ere isolated 
from the Franco-Sardinian army and deprived of 


232 The Hunter of the Alps, 

all hope of assistance. But when the results of 
this skirmish are taken into consideration, the im- 
portance attached to it by the criers of the revolu- 
tion must appear to every sensible mind as naught 
else than hyperbole and chaotic rhapsody. The 
number of killed and wounded on each side was 
about equal; and they were too few to have any 
determining influence on the issue of the war. 

Julian, as we have already remarked, had been 
stationed at the foot of Biumo, in defence of a 
barricade of all others the most exposed to the 
enemy’s fire. At the very opening of the encoun- 
ter a round-shot struck the palisade immediately 
over his head, the violence of the shock tumbling 
him on the muddy ground. Fortunately he was 
more frightened than hurt. Picking himself up 
amid the stupid jeers of his comrades, he resumed 
his former position ; but scarcely had he done so 
when another ball came crashing through the bar- 
ricade against which he was leaning. We need 
scarce observe that he felt in no wise comfortable. 
Maso, who was not far removed, remarked that he 
was growing shaky, and hastened to stand by, and 
encourage, his friend, but the commander in a voice 
of thunder ordered him back to his post. Who 
can tell but that the generous sacrifice made by 
Natalie at the shrine of Fourvicres flung the pro- 
tecting shield of heaven over Julian at that hour ? 

The supreme moment ari ived when the Austrians 
dashed to the assault. The rattle of musketry, the 
clash of swords, the yells of rage and vengeance, 
the groans of the wounded and dying, the confu- 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


233 


sion that reigned around — all constituted a scene of 
indes'cribable liorroj. In the midst of the melee a 
cannon-sbot shattered Julian’s rifle in his hand, 
striking a soldier by his side, who dropped help- 
lessly at his feet. Seizing his wounded comrade, 
assisted by one of his companions, he withdrew as 
hastily as possible from the thick of the infernal 
conflict ; and bearing the fallen soldier to the rear, 
laid him on the sward, and forthwith removed his 
belts and accoutrements and unbuttoned his uni- 
form. He shuddered at the sight — the wounded 
soldier’s breast was almost shot in two. 

‘‘For heaven’s sake let me be,” he gasped. Do 
not touch me ; you only intensify my suffering. I 
cannot live but a few moments at most ! ” Then, 
grasping Julian’s hand, he added : 

What is your name ?” 

Julian told him. 

Do you know Eric, of the Third Regiment ? ” 

“Ho, but I can find him out.” 

“He is my cousin. I desire you to tak-e this 
locket from my cii'ain and this ring from my finger, 
and give them both to Eric. Tell him write home 
and send both to Virginia. Poor Virginia !” 

Julian, who in the excitement of the moment 
did not scrutinize his wounded companion with 
any great attention, now, regarding him more 
closely, exclaimed: 

“0 Heaven ! Augustus, is it you ?” 

“ Yes. Poor Virginia I May Heaven forgive me !” 
he gasped, and with a convulsive shudder expired. 

Julian, scarce able to control his emotions, bent 


234 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


gently down, removed the ring and locket, and, 
observing a bench hard by, wqpt over and seated 
himself thereon. He opened the locket forthwith. 
It was of pure gold and exquisite finish. It con- 
tained two miniature portraits admirably executed 
and surrounded by a lock of hair which formed an 
initial letter under either figure. The portraits 
were those of a charming young girl and a remark- 
ably handsome youth. Julian at a glance recog- 
nized Augustus, his frank and radiant counte- 
nance, intellectual brow, and his huge, half-foppish, 
looking mustache. The other portrait was doubt- 
less that of Virginia, whom the dying soldier so 
bitterly mourned ; the initial that adorned the 
graceful picture indicated it clearly enough. 

Who can this lovely creature be ? ” thought 
Julian as he gazed on the charming picture with 
mingled sentiments of sadness and admiration. 
His thoughts instinctively reverted to Natalie, and 
he trembled at the idea. Perhaps Virginia was the 
betrothed or the only sister of Augustus. Sudden- 
ly breaking from his reverie, he cast a hurried 
glance around him, and observed Maso, pale, hag- 
gard, without musket or knapsack, tottering to- 
ward him, holding in his* hand a handkerchief 
tightly pressed against his bosom. 

Julian at once rushed to the presence of his 
friend, exclaiming excitedly : 

0 Maso ! are you also wounded ?” 

‘‘Only a slight scratch,” replied Maso with a 
pleasant smile ; “ it doesn’t amount to much. But 
what about you ?” 


The Hunter of the Alps, 235 

Not a hair of my head injured. The bullets 
whizzed around me thick as hail. I have had my 
clothes perforated in a dozen places and my musket 
shattered in my hands. Heaven must assuredly 
have protected me to-day. I can scarcely conceive 
how I escaped at all. I was continually in the 
midst of living death. But look you here,” he re- 
marked in directing the attention of his friend to 
the body of his fallen comrade. 

‘‘ Killed ! Who is he ? ” exclaimed Maso. 

‘^Augustus.” 

Poor fellow ! One of the best characters in 
the entire regiment.” 

But what about you ? Let us see your wound* 
Is it painful ?” asked Julian eagerly. 

No, not much ; see, it is only a slight flesh 
wound.” And, removing the handkerchief, he al- 
lowed his anxious friend to see for himself and put 
aside his fears. 

‘‘Let us, then, proceed to the hospital or the 
ambulance store,” answered Julian, ^^and have it 
attended to. We have had enough of fighting to- 
day, and I don't purpose returning to the game 
again.” ' 

‘‘What a racket these Austrians are making 
anyway !” observed Maso as he started on at Juli- 
an’s suggestion. 

“ Oh I don’t talk to me about it ; I tremble at 
the bare idea of it.” 

“ The dance isn’t over yet, then. Do you hear 
that musketry rattle down there ?” 

Let the swaggerers enjoy it, then ; I got all the 


236 The Hunter of the Alps. 

* dancing ’ I want, I assure 3^011 — more than I care 
ever again to get in the cause of Victor Emman- 
uel/’ 

In a few moments they entered the surgeon’s 
quarters, where Maso had his wound dressed ; and 
at night, when the enemy had retired and the fight 
was won, they mingled joyously with the rest of 
Garibaldi’s victorious mob. 




CHAPTER XXIX. 

AUGUSTUS. 

At the moment when the conflict raged in all 
its fury under the walls of Varese couriers were 
resting on their saddles with bridle in hand, ready 
to bear the joyous news to the surrounding Til- 
lages should victory crown the standard of Gari- 
baldi. One of these messengers was despatched to 
Como, the wealthiest and most populous town along 
the Alpine elopes. Scarce was the news received 
of the success achieved by the Chasseurs of the 
Alps and the retreat of General Hurban than the 
streets of the city became the scene of wild, tumul- 
tuous joy, and the banner of Savoy was triumphant- 
ly displayed. All the steamers rf Lake Como that 
had cast anchor the evening before in the little 
bay of Torno hailed the insurrection with joy, and, 
on learning the events that had just occurred at 
Varese, flung out the tricolor. Tin y skimmed the 
lake in all directions, exciting to revolt the inhabi- 
tants along the shores, and picking up every armed 
volunteer who presented himself for the cause. In 
a short time, however, two Austrian battalions, 
well supplied with artillery, rushed in eager haste 
237 


238 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


for the city. They occupied its streets with mar- 
vellous celerity, and took up the most favorable 
liositions they could select. They accordingly held 
the inhabitants in check, and without any cere- 
mony pointed their cannon toward the lake, which 
was clotted with steamers laden with insurgents. 
These latter, on finding themselves held thus stern- 
ly in hand by the Austrians, despatched forthwith 
a messenger to G-aribaldi, requesting him to come 
to their assistance wdth all possible haste. The 
messenger arrived at his headquarters on the night 
of the 26th, and returned immediately with the in- 
telligence that on the following day the Chasseurs 
of the xVlps would start for Como. 

Accordingly, at daybreak next morning the en- 
tire corps was on the march tow^ard Mainate, leav- 
ing Varese gari isoned by a handful of soldiers, who 
had orders to evacuate the town should the enemy 
endeavor to recapture it ; for it was utterly impos- 
sible for Garibaldi to hold out in Lombardy if tiie 
rranco-Saruinian army did not win a pitched bat- 
tle — in other words, if they did not make them- 
selves masters of Milan. In truth, his expedition 
to Como was naught else than a clever move to ap- 
proach the Swiss frontier,* which he purposed cross- 
ing as a final refuge in the event of a disastrous 
defeat. 

About ten o’clock in the morning the bulk of 
Garibaldi’s command halted at Solbiate, near the 
river Lura, and a short distance from Ilurban’s 
outposts, which were plainly visible on the further 
bank. Ilei’e (hecolnnin rcsb-d and prepavd their 


Tke Hìmter of the Alps. 239 

scanty morning meal The volunteers, having 
s acked their arms, scattered in small groups 
through the surrounding fields, and, stretched on 
the greensward, among the hedges, or beneath the 
spreading shade-trees, quietly rested or chatted plea- 
santly over their past experiences and future hopes. 

During this march Maso was, for the first time, 
compelled to separate himself from his friend Ju- 
lian. He was suffering not a little from his wound, 
and was besides so overcome by fatigue that he 
had to obtain permission to ride in one of the com- 
missariat wagons. Julian agreed to meet him at 
the first halt they should make, and proceeded with 
his comrades, not a little anxious, however, regard- 
ing the condition of his friend. 

Arrived at Solbiate, he forthwith set about finding 
Maso, and met him in a few moments. They 
walked off together tow’ard a clump of trees in the 
distance, and seated themselves in the shade. 
Julian drew forth from his linen knapsack — which 
all the Chasseurs carried instead of the ordinary 
military kind, on account of the weight of the 
latter — his morning rations, which consisted of a 
bottle of spring-water, a morsel of brown bread, 
and a few slices of tolerably good meat. Maso had 
brought nothing with him, and his loss of appetite 
and feverish condition w'ere such that he could 
scarce bear the sight of Julian’s eatables. The 
latter, after vainly endeavoring to persuade Maso to 
share his breakfast, remarked somewhat uneasily : 

‘^You are much worse than you imagine; you 
should have remained at Varese.” 


240 The Hunter of the Alps. 

‘‘Yes ! to furnish a target for the Austrians ?” 

“But do you think you will ever succeed in 
arriving at Como ? I doubt very much that you 
will. If you could only see yourself for a mo- 
ment ! ” 

“Well, what must happen will happen. 1 cer- 
tainly do not feel as well as I should desire. How- 
ever, it is better for me to hold out as long as pos- 
sible than to fall beneath the vengeance of the 
Croats. These rascals look upon us simply as as- 
sassins, and openly declare that Garibaldi’s follow- 
ing are only thieves and filibusters, who need not 
expect and who certainly will not get any quarter. 
That is not very encouraging, is it ? ” 

“ Well, 1 should think not.” 

“ Then we had better change the topic. I left 
you last evening, as you may recollect, with Eric, 
the cousin of poor Augustus. Did you give him 
that ring and locket, as requested ? ” 

“ I did ; and a melancholy story that’s connected 
with it, too. The more I converse with my c ^m- 
panions the clearer becomes the fact to my mind 
that the independence of Italy is naught else than 
a pretext to satisfy the pride and self-esteem of a 
swarm of aspiring politicians. But even that 
would not be so regrettable did it not likewise en- 
tail ruin and dishonor on countless happy homes. 
You know the grief I myself have caused through 
this accursed war. It will be nothing less than a 
miracle if I do not send down my mother and sister 
in sorrow to the grave. And for what ? What is 
it to me or mine whether a Piedmontese robber or 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


241 


an Austrian despot rules in Lombardy ? Is it an 
affair of such gigantic importance as to warrant me 
in shedding my blood and overwhelming my family 
with woe, to help in effecting its realization ? And 
you, too, have acted as I have, and your conduct 
has been productive of a like result.’^ 

‘^It is only too true indeed,” replied Maso 
sadly ; ‘^but to return to Augustus.” 

‘^Ah ! Augustus — ^you saw the death he met 
with. He was but twenty-two years of age, and 
leaves to mourn his loss in agony and despair a 
lovely young wife of eighteen, and but three 
months married ! ” 

What ! that Virginia whose charming por- 
trait adorned that precious little locket ?” 

‘^Exactly.” 

‘‘ And he 'was senseless enough to abandon her, 
and come instead to share the life and company of 
Garibaldi’s jail-birds ? ” 

So it seems. His cousin, whom I found, by 
the way, to be an engaging and highly cultured 
young fellow, informed me that Augustus was a 
wealthy marquis and resided in a flourishing city 
of Yenetia. His father, who, as early as last fall, 
got wind of the plots laid to induce his son to start 
for Piedmont and become a martyr for Italian in- 
dependence, exercised every means, of course, to 
defeat the plans of his wicked seducers. He con- 
ceived that the best course he could adopt in or- 
der to frustrate their designs was to get his son 
married. He accordingly brought about his union 
with Virginia, who, my informant assures me, is a 


242 The Hunter of the Alps* 

perfect treasure. She brought him a rich, dowry, 
and the nuptials were celebrated in the month of 
January. One would imagine that Augustus, in 
possession of such a consort, would indeed be the 
happiest of men. But it was not to be. The Free- 
masons, to whom ho had been affiliated, were wont 
to twit him in their circles, meetings, and places of 
assemblage ; they even accused him of cowardice, 
alleging that he got married so suddenly with no 
other design than that of shirking the duty of 
fighting in the cause of his country’s freedom. He 
was continually in receipt of anonymous letters, 
bristling with sarcasm, and even threats. In short, 
he became the unhappiest of mortals. One even- 
ing in March last he came home dejected and 
deeply agitated in mind, and proceeded to pack up 
his travelling trunk with unwonted haste. He en- 
deavored as best he could to calm his wife’s fears, 
who, on seeing him preparing to start, used every 
means to dissuade him from Ijìs project. All in 
vain. He embraced her with the tenderest emotion, 
and then, despite all her tears and supplications, 
violently tore himself from her arms and disap- 
peared. His father, on learning the melancholy 
news, was prostrated on a bed of sickness. His 
young wife is hurrying to the grave through ex- 
cessive grief, and the intelligence of his death will 
doubtless hasten the hour. Three victims at once ! 
And for whom ? 

‘‘For the devil,” growled Maso, as he launched 
forth in an invective against the traitors and 
soulless wretches who duped so many of the Italian 


The Hunter of the Alps, 243 

youth, and blazoned the blackest crimes as so many 
shining virtues. I’ll have fat revenge on the 
wretch who betrayed me, should I escape till the 
ratification of peace,” he continued; and, rising 
from his seat, he took leave of Julian arid pro- • 
ceeded to the ambulance wagon to have his 
wound attended to before the troops should resume 
their march. 




CHAPTER XXX. 

A CONSOLATION. 

Alone in this sequestered spot, Julian remained 
musing sadly over the melancholy fate of Augus- 
tus, and still more so over his comrade’s suffering 
and danger. Leaning against the tree at the foot 
of .which he was seated, he listlessly drew from his 
pocket the cherished portraits of his mother and 
sister, and contemplated them with a look of 
mingled pleasure and pain. 

Poor Julian! to what rude trials had he not 
been subjected during the past month ? No youth 
in Italy possessed more advantages, did he but know 
how to employ them, than he. Wealthy, hand- 
some, engaging, amiable, heir to one of the most 
illustrious names in Italy, he was likewise endowed 
with splendid talents, high culture — ^in a word, all 
the blessings and pleasures of life. He was the joy 
and idol of his mother’s heart, who prized his affec- 
tion more than aught else on earth. He was the 
object of his sister’s tenderest love, and the ad- 
mired of all observers. He enjoyed everything 
calculated to render him truly happy and con- 
tent. And yet in a thoughtless hour he cast to 
the winds all., these blessings, these affections, 
244 


245 


The Hunter of the Alps, 

these hop^s. A wanderer, a fugitive, abused 
and despised, he threw in his lot with a band 
of adventurers and criminals — he, his mother’s 
sole remaining comfort, his sister’s guardian, 
the pride of an honorable and distinguished 
house. But, if he acted imprudently, he dearly 
paid the debt that imprudence and rashness never 
&il to exact. 

He has long since deplored his folly, but found 
himself unable to remedy it, 

‘‘Well, Julian, are you here still ?” cried Maso, 
on returning to his presence, in company with a 
young peasant. 

“ Certainly ; where else would you expect me to 
be ? ” replied J ulian, looking up and placing his 
papers in his pocket. 

“ This gentleman,” continued Maso, in politely 
introducing the stranger, ^‘is a messenger from 
your mother, and the captain just now instructed 
me to bring him hither.” 

Julian rose from his seat somewhat excitedly, 
exclaiming : 

“ Is it possible ?” 

“Yes, sir,” replied the villager, as he awkwardly 
fumbled his huge straw hat in his fingers ; “ and I 
want to know if you are that Mr. G-aribaldian 
written on this,” he added, on drawing a letter 
from his pocket and handing it to Julian. 

“ What ! from my mother ? ” exclaimed the lat- 
ter as he glanced at the superscription. 

He tore it open at once, and ran his eye hurriedly 
over the following welcome lines : 


246 


The Hunter of the Alps. 

Aron A, May 25, 4 o^clock p.m. 

‘‘ My Dearest Julian : I now have recourse in 
despatcliing a messenger to you, at his great per- 
sonal risk, to know if you are still living. I have 
for some timo back mourned you as dead; and 
were it not for the importunities of your sister to 
remain yet awhile liere, I should ere this have re- 
turued home to spend the rest of my days in sor- 
row. 

“ Should this reach you, I implore you to let me 
know, with all possible haste, where you are, and 
liow situated. When at Turin recently, the Minis- 
ter of War issued an order, at my instance, reliev- 
ing you and your kind friend from further service ; 
but it was impossible to find you. A single word 
from you will restore me to my wonted happiness. 
Natalie, Florence, and myself shall remain in Pied- 
mont until circumstances permit us to proceed to 
Lombardy and bring you home. Above all else I 
beg you not to imperil your life by any rash or 
foolish act. I received your letter addressed from 
Ponte Stura, and I need scarce tell you that it af- 
forded me the most unspeakable consolation. Let 
us not, then, think or speak any more of the past. 
Our sole object now should be to meet as soon as 
possible. I pray for you unceasingly ; and now ac- 
cept the blessing and devotion of your mother. 

My Dearest Brother : I write you to say 
that we await you. Come as quickly as possible, 
and let me know your projects concerning me, of 
which you wrote in your last letter. Yours ever, 

Natalie.’’ 


The Hunter of the Alps. 247 

And did the ladies themselves^ pray, give you 
these letters ? demanded Julian, after having 
read them with hurried emotion. 

Yes, with their own hands,” answered the pea- 
sant, and I would have delivered them to you last 
evening at Varese, if I was not obliged, for my 
personal safety, to remain at Bobiate. The young 
lady instructed me to give you this also,” he con- 
tinued, producing, as he spoke, from his pocket a 
miniature box, whiclt he handed to Julian, who 
opened it with eager curiosity. It contained two 
small gold medals bearing the image of Our Lady 
of Succor. Accompanying them was a slip of paper 
whereon was written the words, One for you, 
and one for your friend.” 

^^But,” enquired Julian with anxiety, ^‘how did 
they succeed in getting to Arona ? How many of 
them are there ? ” 

There are five,” replied the stranger : “two 
elderly ladies, a pretty young girl who resembles 
you exceedingly, a lean, lank little man, and a 
gentleman from Turin.” 

“From Turin ?” cried Maso with surprise. 

“ Yes, sir, a chevalier from Turin ; an excellent 
gentleman, too.” 

“Ah ! it is not my father, then.” 

“Ho you propose returning to Arona again, my 
friend ? ” enquired Julian after a brief pause. 

“ Ho I intend to return ? Wbab did I come for 
but to bring back your answer ?” 

And they are awaiting you there now ?” 

“Certainly; they are to give me a hundred 


248 The Hunter of the Alps, 

francs when I get back, and I can assure you that 
I have earned it well. At Castelletto I had to 
cross the river under a shower of Austrian bullets. 
I had to travel, for the greater part of the way, un- 
frequented roads and by-paths to escape capture, 
and encountered the greatest obstacles. I now 
await your answer, as lam in a hurry to return.” 

I have not got any paper at present,” remarked 
Julian, as he turned enquiringly toward Maso. 

I shall get you some in a moment.” 

It were impossible to give all the questions ad- 
dressed to the villager by Julian in the meantime. 
Did he not dread falling under an Austrian bullet 
or being taken as a deserter by the Piedmontese 
military authorities, he would, on the spur of the 
moment, have decamped with the messenger. But 
he did not, under the circumstances, deem such a 
procedure prudent. Maso meantime arrived with 
writing material, and Julian penned a few lines to 
his mother and sister in response, besides giving 
half a dozen verbal messages, instructions, and re- 
commendations apropos of a variety of matters. All 
at once the bugle sounded the march. 

About noon Garibaldi resumed the march 
with his legion. It behooved him especially to 
conceal from the enemy his bold purpose of arriv- 
ing at Como unexpectedly. So cautiously did he 
arrange and carry out matters that the Austrians, 
encamped on the banks of the Jura, did not antici- 
pate his designs till they were put into execution. 
He doubled back unperceived on the village of 
Cavallasca, skirting the wooded crests of the Swiss- 


The Hunter of the Alps. 249 

Italian frontier. From this spot to Borgovico, a 
hamlet situate at the further end of the lake, the 
distance was not much. 

In thus appearing both bold and daring Garibal-* 
di hoped to incite the village to revolt, and mean- 
time held out a pretext to the supporters of Victor 
Emmanuel on Lake Maggiore. Their number was 
estimated at eight hundred, and (Garibaldi was 
anxious that they should join him and add to his 
military strength. But to achieve this object it 
was necessary to dislodge a force of Austrians from 
the cragged steeps of San Fermo, after, in all pro- 
bability, a very hard tussle. 

He disposed his Chasseurs of the Alps to endea- 
vor by a supreme effort that dangerous enterprise. 
In that wearying and forced march through the most 
difficult passes the orders were that the second re- 
giment, which always brought up the rear, should 
now form the van. Maso, in observing the change, 
imagined very naturally that he would be removed 
from Julian. He wished to take his place beside 
his friend at Olgiate, but the latter vainly endea- 
vored to dissuade him from his foolish resolve. 
Maso was determined, despite his fever and bodily 
weakness, to accompany his comrade, who was 
wholly absorbed in the happiness of having received 
a message from home. 

Did you thank your sis cr in my name ?” de- 
manded Maso. ‘‘ I hope you have not forgotten it.” 

‘^Assuredly not.” 

I hope you presented my warmest acknowledg- 
ments to jour kind mohherj who has interested her- 


250 The Fhuiter of the Alps, 

self so much in endeavoring to effect, my exemp- 
tion from further service. If I escape I purpose 
going to your home and thanking her in person.” 

And so, in conversing about their future designs, 
they whiled away the weary hours of the march. 
Maso meantime grew very weak, and, suffering as 
he was from a severe attack of fever, was compelled 
to fall back. 

He continued the march for some time, but 
grew taciturn and displeased. Finally, turning to 
Julian, he told him that he was physically exhaust- 
ed, and that it was utterly impossible for him longer 
to follow the regiment. Julian trembled with 
anxiety and dread on seeing his friend -so pale, 
weak, and dejected — him who was always so full 
of life and vigor and good-humor. 

^^What shall I do?” he murmured. Where 
shall we stop ?” 

^‘Dowm here,” replied Maso, pointing to a clump 
of trees through which ran a serpentine path lead- 
ing to a little dell on the further side. Let us go 
down there ; I am growing weak.” 

The regiment was now far in advance, and it 
was a hopeless task to think of overtaking and 
keeping pace with it. Even the stragglers had out- 
distanced them. Without more ado they followed 
the little winding path referred to, and, passing a 
clump of hawthorn and hazel trees, descended the 
slope to a thicket of small oaks, in.whoso shade 
they sat down on a rich and verdant sward. Julian 
supported his friend on his arm, for he had grown 
SO exhausted that lie could scarce move, 


The Hunter of the Alps. 251 

“Seat yourself here for a while,’’ said Julian, 
pointing to a tufted knoll hard by. “You can rest 
there comfortably for a while.” 

Maso seated himself on the grass, sat erect for a 
moment, and then fell over in a swoon. Suffering 
from a violent attack of fever and overcome with 
fatigue, exhausted nature gave way, and the blood 
rushed copiously from his mouth as he lay insen- 
sible on the grass. 

Julian, terribly excited, lifted his friend in his 
arms and repeatedly called him by name. Maso 
•was unable to answer, and Julian, placing him 
down once more, took off his military overcoat, 
which he placed beneath Maso’s head. He then 
unclasped his belts, and, feeling his pulse, found 
that its beating was scarcely palpable. 

His anxiety and dread now increased. He looked 
around him on all sides, but could see no sign of 
life. He listened in eager breathlessness, but 
could hear no other sound than the monotonous 
murmur of the leaves or the birds in the branches 
uttering their quick notes of joy. He looked at 
his watch ; it was three o’clock in the afternoon. 
Iti the midst of this melancholy silence, and de- 
prived of all hope, he knew not what to do. After 
a brief space, which to Julian seemed an age, Maso 
recovered his senses, and soon after his power of 
speech ; but what was to be done neither the one 
nor the other seemed to understand. 



CHAPTER XXXL 

MASO’S HOME. 

Maso’s friends were likewise busily engaged in 
searching for him, and he ardently desired to put 
an end to their trouble. He knew that his flight 
from home had caused them intense pain. It will 
be remembered that he told Julian, after receiving 
bis first letter at Savigliano, that his rash act had 
prostrated his mother on a bed of sickness ; and 
that his father promised to leave no means unexer- 
cised to restore him to home and friends. Let us, 
then, before proceeding further with pur narrative, 
make the acquaintance of Maso’s parents. 

Mr. Leopold — for such was his father’s name — 
was not a native of Lunigiana, as one might be 
led to believe from the account given by Maso t( 
his comrade. He was a Florentine, and sprang 
from a family that achieved great distinction at 
the memorable siege of Florence in 1530, and whose 
deeds are related in the histories of Francesco 
Segni, Benedetto Varchi, and Busino’s Letters. 
Leopold was a man of middle age, tall, vigo- 
rous, of magnificent physique, and his frank, open 
countenance betokened an honest and loyal heart. 
, 


253 


The Hunter of the Alps, 

He was higlily educated, being remarkably well 
skilled in the natural sciences. Though reserved 
and apparently austere in manner, he was never- 
theless endowed with a kindly disposition and gen- 
erous soul. Were it not for his excessive prudence, 
which rendered him scrupulous in everything and 
timid and irresolute in affairs of moment, he might 
be considered faultless. As a friend he was faith- 
ful and honorable, and was the kindest and most 
affectionate of husbands. He almost idolized his 
children, but exacted from them most rigorously 
respect and obedience in all things, which, truth 
to tell, they were never disposed to refuse. 

He was proprietor of vast estates in various 
parts of Tuscany. Abhorring the noise and bustle 
of city life, he almost invariably resided in the 
country, where he occupied himself in attending to 
his real-estate business. During several years he 
lived in a handsome residence near the Modena 
frontier and adjacent to a small town on the 
Lunigiana side. In this delightful spot Maso, his 
eldest son, was born. He was wont, therefore, to 
consider himself a native of the town referred to, 
notwithstanding its not being within the' limits of 
Modena. Later on Leopold removed, for his 
greater convenience, to the central portion of the 
grand duchy, where he purchased a large and 
well-appointed country residence, close to a popu- 
lous and flourishing city. 

Madame Lenora, Maso’s mother, was a Scottish 
lady, of a distinguished family, pious and kindly 
disposition. She was endowed with all the excellent 


254 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


qualities becoming a wife and mother. Her early 
education she received from a devoted and pious 
mother, and she was brought up in the noble and 
sublime school of sacrifice and suffering, which 
kindled in her heart the torch of faith, and formed 
her to solid virtue, in early habituating her to prac- 
tise the virtues of self-denial and sacrifice, the true 
secret of happiness on earth. 

Lady Bianca, who was a Protestant, brought her 
daughter^ then a mere child, to Italy in 1825, 
when travelling on the Continent for pleasure. 
Her husband was a wealthy gentleman from the 
county of Sutherland. They arrived at Kome 
in time to witness the celebration of the ceremonies 
of Holy Week, and assisted at the Pontifical Mass 
on Easter Sunday. Lady Bianca was so deeply 
moved by the majesty of the ceremonial, the daz- 
zling splendor of the worship, and the celestial 
dignity of the pontiff that at the moment when 
Leo XII. pronounced the solemn benediction she 
knelt down with the other worshippers, and arose 
with the resolve of immediately entering the Catho- 
lic fold. Alfred, her husband, whose religious 
convictions were strongly puritanical, was not slow 
to divine her purpose, and, cautiously dissembling 
his motive, prepared to leave Rome at once and re- 
turn to Scotland. 

But on his arrival at Genoa he was taken ill, and 
so violently, that in a few days all hope of his re- 
covery was lost. His excellent wife did not lose 
courage in the midst of her misfortune, but con- 
tinued to attend to him with unwearying solicitude. 


The Htmtcr of the Alps. 


255 


When apprised by the pliysicians of his approach- 
ing death she determined to leave no means untried 
to induce him to enter the’ bosom of the only true 
Church. Heaven seconded her efforts. 

Calling- her to his presence, her dying husband 
stretched forth his hand and said : 

‘‘I am about to leave you, Bianca. Shall we 
ever meet again ? What will become of Lenora ? ” 
Bianca, in tear-laden accents, thereupon un- 
folded the mystery she had concealed in her heart. 

‘‘Alfred,” she answered, bathing as she spoke 
his deathly cold hand with her tears, “ we shall 
assuredly meet again in the mansion of our Hea- 
venly Father, and we shall there eml^race our. 
cherished child, if you but consent to hearken to 
this my last request and prayer.” 

“ Speak ; you know I could not think of refus- 
ing you. What do 30U ask ? ” 

Bianca, in the agony of grief, thereupon drew 
forth a miniature image of the Blessed Virgin and 
placed it to the lips of her dying husband. 

“ What I and are you a Catholic ? ” he exclaimed 
in anxious, impetuous accents. 

“Yes, I purpose becoming formally received in- 
to the Church of God without delay.” 

“ 0 my God ! ” he exclaimed, as he gazed in her 
face with a look of agony and despair. • 

“ How hear me, Alfred,” cried Bianca passionate- 
ly. “If you desire it, this can be. Become you 
also a Catholic to-day. God calls on you. to do so 
by my mouth. Be a Catholic, and on the cross of 
my Kedeemer 1 shall now and for ever swear none 


256 The Hu nter of the A Ips, 

other shall call mo wife. Say, dear Alfred, that 
you will.” 

Alfred answered not ; and as he fixed his gaze 
on the heavens he at oue time appeared tranquil, 
and at another as if suffering from a deep emotion. 

At length the dying man fell into a tranquil 
.state of mind, and seemed lost in thought, while 
his devoted wife sighed from her very soul as she 
gazed in his face. 

God alone, who knows all things, saw into his 
struggling soul at that moment. But there was 
beyond doubt a wonderful miracle of his grace and 
mercy. 

A change came over his features ; he seized the 
medal, kissed it devoutly, pressed it to his heart, 
and then, turning to his wife, said with the sweet- 
est smile : 

Well, dearest, let it be so ; I will die a Catho- 
lic. Send at once for a priest.” 

The father came. He received the dying man 
into the Church, administered to him the final rites 
of religion, and on the next day Alfred breathed 
1 :Ì 3 last in the arms of his fond wife. 

Lady Bianca herself, a few weeks after the obse- 
quies of her husband, dressed in mourning which 
she was never to lay aside, was received with her 
little daughter into the bosom of the Church. She 
vas in her twenty-second year. Her child was in 
the third year of her age. 

Her conversion not on^y turned many of her 
friends against her, but stirred them up to annoy 
and trouble and put her faiih on trial. But by the 


The Hunter of the Alps. 257 

grace of God slie stood firm ; nothing could make 
her for a moment waver in the true faith — neither 
menace nor flattery nor promises, nor any temp- 
tation that the world could hold out. 

Her unfeeling and bigoted family denied her to 
all visitors for six months, so that she had to en- 
dure a species of domestic seclusion. They spoke 
rudely to her, treated her harshly, even struck 
her, and in their persecution caused her to under- 
go the most insulting treatment. At length, after 
defrauding her by an act of the lowest perfidy of all 
she possessed in her own right, and of what came to 
her of her husband’s estate through her child, they 
wantonly drove her out. And now she was a poor, 
friendless wanderer ; yet was her faith and trust in 
her Blessed Saviour unshaken, and the memory of 
her dear Alfred was indelibly written on her faith- 
ful soul. She went to Paris, and there found a 
home with a pious lady who, like herself, was a 
convert, and with whom she returned to Italy. 
They settled in Florence, and there dwelt like two 
sisters. 

After about two years Lady Bianca lost her dear 
friend. God called that favored soul to its reward. 
This young and beautiful widow, as yet in the 
very prime of youth and beauty, found herself for- 
lorn and almost reduced to beggary. She had 
come of the family of a wealthy Scotch baronet, 
and had brought to her husband as her mar- 
riage dower $100,000. An opulent Eoman noble- 
man proposed marriage to her, but the memory of 
her dead Alfred and her vow to God and him were 


258 The Hunter of the Alps. 

too dear to her, and must ever be preserved invio- 
late. 

Words cannot paint what this heroic soul en- 
dured for her faith and the love of her good Jesus. 
All is recorded above. Suffice it to say here that, 
assisted by an occasional alms of a few crowns from 
a venerable and apostolic priest, she managed some- 
how to eke out a subsistence with her needle in the 
attic of a little house for herself and her child Len- 
ora. The child grew in years. She was hand- 
some and like the morning rose, clear and fresh 
in her complexion, and pure and guileless as an 
angel of heaven. 

But with what a pang in her soul did not Lady 
Bianca look on this precious child I With what a 
look of mother’s love did she not hear the ring of 
her girlish laugh as Lenora played around at her 
feet ! — for Bianca could not but think, if a prema- 
ture death should carry herself off in this land of 
exile, what should be the lot of her abandoned or- 
phan. This terrible contingency filled her soul 
with dread. But, reproaching herself with her 
want of confidence in Heaven, she resumed her 
wonted courage, and entrusted herself and tender 
child to the protecting hand of Providence. She 
soon experienced in the depths of her soul peace, 
hope, consolation, and a serene joy that effaced all 
anxiety and turned into happiness all the anguish 
of the past. 

Frequently in mid-winter, which in Florence is 
usually rigorous, she was compelled through her 
excessive poverty to witness the sufferings of her 


The Hunter of the Alps. 259 

child, who was deprived of all the comforts and 
many even of the things which the wealthy look 
upon as necessaries of life. But she never lost cou- 
rage in her extremest necessity, even when reduced 
to the trying extremity of having to solicit assist- 
ance from her neighbors. And as assistance was 
never asked in vain, she taught her daughter ever 
to place unlimited trust in God and look upon her- 
self as a child of Providence. 

In the midst of the many sufferings which ever 
attend excessive indigence, amid all her privations 
and adversity, Lenora, nowin her seventeenth year, 
had never enjoyed the ordinary pleasures or con- 
veniences of life. Silken robe or jewelled orna- 
ment she knew not. Indeed, she scarce knew the 
names of such objects of luxury, that turn so many 
giddy heads. She possessed no other ornament 
than neatness and modesty. 

But for all this she was not unhappy or discon- 
tent. She envied no one the pleasures and felici- 
ties which she herself could not enjoy. Her heart 
was at peace, for it was pure and wholly devoted to 
God. More than that she desired not. 

But so delicate was she, and so idolized by her 
mother, that the latter almost dreaded exposing her 
to the light of the sun or to a breath of air. In 
her manner she was so modest, so naive, so amia- 
ble, so frank, in a word, so perfect, that none of 
her wealthy neighbors, brought up in gilded salons 
and rolling in wealth and luxury, could be for a 
moment compared to her. Her mother had taught 
her to speak and write with correctness and flu- 


200 The Hunter of the Alps. 

ency English, French, and Italian. Assisted by 
a pious and kind lady of her acquaintance, Le- 
nora mastered the Tuscan pronunciation in a 
short time so perfectly that she spoke that lan- 
guage with vernacular elegance. In short. Lady 
Bianca had taught her daughter all the rules and 
customs of good behavior and polite breeding as are 
necessary to render a Christian lady not only virtu- 
ous but perfect. 

Fortune favored Bianca sufficiently to allow her 
in the early months of 1840 to take up her resi- 
dence in the street where Leopold boarded in one 
of the most fashionable hotels in the city. Leo- 
pold at this period was in the twentieth year of his 
age. On various occasions he had met the mother 
and daughter quietly returning from the little 
church that stood almost opposite the apartments 
he occupied. He soon began to take an interest in 
them, and observed that every morning at an early 
hour they entered the chapel, where they assisted 
at Mass with exemplary devotion. They then 
proceeded to their home with grave and modest 
demeanor. Leopold grew very anxious to find 
out who they were, and in fact all about them. 
Having made some enquiries on the subject, he 
discovered that they were very poor and lived in 
the utmost retirement. He accordingly requested 
his mother, Madame Teresa, to pay them a visit 
and see that they were not in want of anything. 
She did so, and Leopold’s heart was captured by 
the radiant beauty, indeed, by the first overpowering 
glance, of the modest and lovely Lenora. To be 


The Hunter of the Alps. 261 

brief, Leopold for sixteen months used every means 
to obtain his father’s and mother’s consent to solicit 
Lenora’s hand in marriage, as also the consent of 
Lady Bianca. The manly virtues, enormous wealth, 
and rare qualities won his case in a brief period as 
far as Lady Bianca was concerned, though she did 
not think her daughter’s humble position merited 
the attentions of one so distinguished and esti- 
mable. The only treasure Lenora had to offer 
v/as herself, which circumstance caused Leopold’s 
father to hesitate about giving his consent to the 
marriage, which he kept postponing from day to 
day. 

But Providence kindly put an end to all further 
hesitation. Lady Bianca learned through the 
Prussian minister, and wholly unexpectedly, that 

the Baroness Ida W , her maternal aunt, who 

had just died at Berlin, had bequeathed to her a 
large portion of her immense wealth, whereupon all 
the difiSculties vanished in the moment. Three 
months later Leopold gained his parents’ consent 
to marry Lenora, who brought him a dowry of 
two hundred thousand florins, to which Lady 
Bianca became heiress so unexpectedly. 

How true it is that God often rewards, even here 
below, those who place in him implicit and un- 
bounded confldence ! 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

A RAVENIKG WOLF. 

This marriage was blessed of God. So happy 
was it, indeed, that their honeymoon may be said 
never to have set. Peace, harmony, and mutual affec- 
tion, instead of diminishing in the course of years, 
augmented and grew stronger. An angelic crown 
of lovely children soon rose up around the happy 
pair, and brought them, with the smile of youthful 
innocence, all the charms of a holy union. The 
good Lady Bianca, who visited her daughter’s re- 
sidence with punctual regularity, made these chil- 
dren the object of all her joy and solicitude. She 
shed over them more tears of joy than she did tears 
of sorrow over the lot of Lenora at the period of 
their direst misery. 

This worthy and noble lady, notwithstanding 
her happy change of fortune, had scarce modified 
her mode of life, and occupied at Elorence an 
exceedingly humble apartment. The bulk of her 
legacy she invested in Government bonds, and 
which she purposed bequeathing to those of her 
grandchildren who - would best deserve it. She 
lived modestly and econom’cally, and devoted the 



The Hunter of the Alps. 263 

greater portion of hrr yearly income to the relief 
of the wants of the poor and needy. 

Xo mishap had ever occurred to mar the domes- 
tic happiness of Lenora, save the loss of two little 
daughters, who died in their infancy. Maso’s freak 
was therefore the severest trial she had yet met 
with. It were impossible to describe the grief 
occasioned in that happy home by this untoward 
event. This, her eldest boy — who, as the reader may 
have observed, was possessed of such a generous and 
magnanimous disposition — was the Benjamin of the 
household, and so closely resembled his mother in 
his many excellent qualities that he was the idol of 
her heart. It will, therefore, be no cause of sur- 
prise if his mother looked on him with special af- 
fection, or if his unexpected flight from home 
preyed on her mind so intensely. 

This escapade of Maso, ill-advised as it was, had a 
cause, however, and his unhappy parents knew it 
not till it was too late to remedy it. 

Leopold, who was exceedingly anxious with re- 
gard to the education of his children, hesitated, and 
indeed very justly, about sending them to the pub- 
lic schools and institutions in the surrounding 
cities and towns. Accordingly, he resolved to have 
Maso receive instraction at home from a private 
teacher. At first he employed an invalid priest, a 
man whose varied knowledge and profound erudi- 
tion w^ere only surpassed by his kindly disposition 
and many excellent quali:ies. He was of all others 
whom Leopold knew eminently fitted for the task 
in question. For ten years he was Maso’s daily in- 


204 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


structor, adviser, and guide. The boy succeeded 
admirably in his studies, and gave splendid promise 
of success. His younger brothers also were placed un- 
der the same tutor, but were not equally successful. 

Don Joseph, the worthy priest of whom we 
speak, was accordingly of invaluable service to this 
excellent family. But unhappily in the midst of 
his noble task he was suddenly appointed to the 
care of a parish. Leopold had, meantime, to con- 
tent himself with the hope that Don Joseph would 
resume his functions of tutor in the course of a 
few months, as a promise to that effect had been 
given by the good priest’s superiors. 

Unwilling to interrupt his children’s course of 
studies, he accepted the temporary services of a lay 
tutor who was presented to him, and warmly re- 
commended by one of his friends in Pisa ; besides, 
he was the very impersonation of deception — in fact, 
would almost remind one by his demeanor of one 
of those monks so beautifully painted by Angelico 
de Fiesole. He was a young man of five-and-twenty, 
of prepossessing appearance and marked politeness, 
and extremely engaging manners. His conversation 
was entertaining, instructive, and severely deliber- 
ate. He was of a lively disposition, adroit and 
cunning, an industrious student and a litterateur oi 
no mean merit. He affected a piety, too, which, 
truth to tell, is not ordinarily the gift of his pro- 
fession ; he prayed with well-dissembled ostenta- 
tion before and after meals, and assisted at all the 
Ciiurcli exercises with a simulated piety that only 
the most penetrating mind could detect. Thus 


The Himter of the Alps, 265 

by bis hypocrisy ho soon succeedexl in inducing 
Madame Lenora to believe that he was of all 
others the one best fitted for the task he had un- 
dertaken. 

She regarded him as a gentleman of more than or- 
dinary merit, and frequently proposed him to her 
children as a model worthy of imitation in every re- 
spect. As is natural to expect, they listened to her 
advice and paid him every mark of deference and 
regard. 

But while this saintly hypocrite was instructing 
Maso in the rules of poetic art and the precepts of 
science, ho was likewise busy in infusing into his 
mind certain other novel precepts relative to 
morals, history, and politics. To-day it was a 
philippic against tyrants and oppression — that is, 
against all reigning princes, whom he represented 
as being necessarily despots, with, of course, the 
single exception of King Victor Emmanuel, who 
was the father of his subjects inasmuch as he reign- 
etl over but did not govern them. Again he would 
launch out into an elegy on the woes of Italy, the 
slave of a foreign power, the laughing-stock among 
the nations, governed as she was by the mitre and 
the crown. On one occasion he would deliver him- 
self of an enthusiastic exhortation on the glory at- 
taching to patriotism, on another of a virulent 
i ivective against the barbarians who blighted 
with their unholy presence the fair land of 
Italy, the prolific mother of illustrious heroes. 
The themes offered to Maso were almost inva- 
riably ‘‘The Success of the Lombard League,” 


266 


The Htintcr of the Alps, 


The Martyrs of Italian Liberty,” and other kin- 
dred subjects. During recreation hours ho enter- 
tained his pupil by the recitation of passages from 
Nicolini against Rome and the popes ; excited 
his hilarity by a scathing satire from Giusti vili- 
fying kings and priests ; and stirred up his indig- 
nation in declaiming a furious lucubration of 
some obscure Florentine poetaster. 

Obviously the scholar must profit by these les- 
sons, so sedulously taught him and so well calcu- 
lated to fire a youthful imagination. Scarce were 
the first rumors of war heard, scarce was the mar- 
tial fire kindled which moved the entire youth of 
the peninsula to take their stand beneath the 
banner of the Subalpine freebooter, when the cun- 
ning tutor had enmeshed his unsophisticated vic- 
tim. Maso listened to the lying declamations of 
the unscrupulous recruiting agents who infested 
the whole country, and he disappeared like an ap- 
parition. 

On a beuuiiful oveniug in the month of March 
the tutor returned to Leopold’s residence, but 
Maso was missing. 

‘‘ Where did you part with him ? ” he was asked. 

At the gate of the avenue leading to the gar- 
den yonder.” 

“ At what hour ? ” 

^^But a few moments since, not more than a 
quarter of an hour at most — just as the Angelus 
was ringing.” 

And why did he not come home with yoU ?” 

These questions were asked by Maso’s mother in 


The Htmtcr of the Alps. 267 

her anxiety about her favorite boy, but thu profes- 
sor simply shrugged his shoulders in response and 
maintained a dignified and innocent silence. 

“ I am really getting anxious at his being out 
alone at so late an hour,’^ resumed the lady after a 
moment’s silence. 

All the servants were immediately sent in search 
of him, Leopold himself accompanying them. But 
their efforts were in vain. Kiglit came and 
Maso did not yet arrive. Three days passed and 
he was still absent ; a week elapsed and be was 
still unheard of. Finally Leopold learned, through 
one of his acquaintances, that Maso had been seen 
in Leghorn, and took passage on a steamboat 
among a crowd of volunteers. On the arrival of 
this intelligence the hypocritical little professor 
was the first to evince his ineffable sorrow, to con- 
demn Maso’s action, and manifest every mark of 
sympathy toward his parents. But the hypocrite, 
in adjusting his mask, overstepped the bounds 
of j)rudence. Leopold began to doubt his reite- 
rated professions of regret, and recollected that for 
some weeks past his son had given expression to 
some sentiments and opinions which, though he 
condemned as wrong, he did not at the time pay 
much attention to. He mentioned the fact to the 
professor, and expressed his displeasure at the idea 
of his son en!ertaining such false opinions. The 
former pretended to regret the circumstance deeply; 
denied that he (V(r instilled into his mind such 
erroneous and wicked ideas ; and, conscious that 
he will suspected, he disappeared on the following 


268 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


morning, as the owl retreats into its congenial dark- 
ness at the first approach of dawn. 

It leaked out then that this innocent ” soul had 
been despatched to this locality for the settled pur- 
pose of secretly directing the system of enlist- 
ments, and that he attended nightly the meetings 
of the dark-lantern committees, co-operating with 
them, guiding all their actions, and suggesting 
all their lines of procedure,. The unhappy Leo- 
pold, treacherously deceived, was his victim, and 
the wretch in question drew from his cow'ardly act 
profit and promotion. After the events of the 27th 
of April, and the expulsion of the Grand Duke 
from Florence, the new government rewarded the 
worthy auxiliary in granting him a lucrative gov- 
ernment position. A short time subsequently the 
Italian Government decorated 'liim with a cheva- 
lier’s cross. 




CHAPTER XXXIII. 

LEOPOLD AT TTJKIN. 

Leonoka could scarce realize the folly com- 
mitted by her son. His offence appeared so serious, 
so antagonistic to his character and disposition, 
that she could not contemplate it Tvithout amaze- 
ment. She spent whole hours, nay, days, absorbed 
in moody meditation. At the outset Leopold hesi- 
tated as to what he should do — start out to look 
for his son himself, or send some one else to do so. 
While thus deliberating as to the more prudent 
course to adopt, his wife was prostrated by a severe 
attack of illness, superinduced by excessive grief, 
which ere long threatened to grow serious. Fur- 
thermore, she had grown liable to frequent feverish 
spells, which excited the apprehension of her hus- 
band and friends. Indeed, for a time it seemed as 
if she would lose her reason. 

The letter which Maso had written from Sa vig- 
liano, after having performed his Easter duty, ar- 
rived luckily at the period we speak of. This filial 
and affectionate letter, couched in such candid, in- 
genuous terms wherein I^Iaso confessed his offence, 
so passionately begged his mother’s pardon, and 
269 


270 The Hunter of the Alps. 

importuned her to use every means to effect a re- 
conciliation between himself and his father — which 
was, indeed, wholly unnecessary — produced the 
happiest effect. We shall cite but a single passage 
from it, that wherein he speaks of his esteemed 
comrade, Julian, who had afforded him such un- 
told comfort in his present melancholy position : 

‘‘ 1 am, to be sure, in the midst of a rabble mob 
—impious, lawless, and immoral — but I shun their 
company wdtli the most scrupulous care. My only 
companion is a young fellow, one year older than 
myself, whom I accidentally met at Genoa. I have 
contracted with him the closest friendship, inas- 
much as he is virtuous, kind, educated, modest, 
and the very soul of honor. He is a count, and 
heir to an immense fortune. His father is no long- 
er living ; his mother and sister reside in the Eo- 
magna. In that sister his whole affection seems to 
be concentrated. He ran away from home on ac- 
count of a misunderstanding he had with his mo- 
ther, who accused him, with his uncle — who is his 
guardian till he attains his majority — of paying 
special attention to a young lady in nowise worthy 
of him, a fact, however, which he denies wdth the 
most vehement indignation. His mother has used 
every means to find out his whereabouts and bring 
him home, but thus far has been unsuccessful. 
Xotwiths'anding all this, however, he is an excel- 
lent character, and Lis present unhappy condition 
continually excites my sympathy. He does not 
want to r. turn home, because he has foolishly got 
the idea into his head that his mother hates him, 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


271 


and lie is ia perpetual trouble about Lis sister, who 
he insists was the only one in every instance kind to 
him. And now I want you to persuade father to 
send me a little cash, which I stand deplorably in 
need of, and which I shall divide with my friend, 
who is sensitive and delicate, and cannot well get 
on with the rough rations meted out to the regi- 
ment. If ho would but write home he could have 
all the money he needs, of course ; but it is impos- 
sible to induce him to believe it. But I am not so 
senseless as to think similarly in my instance, for I 
know that I have but to ask you, and that, not- 
withstanding my ingratitude toward you in doing 
what I have done, you will not refuse me.’’ 

What a balm to the bruised heart of Leonora 
was this affectionate missive ! Such relief did it 
afford her that, notwithstanding her recent illness, 
she was able to respond to it with her own hand. 
Each of Maso’s brothers and sisters who was old 
enough to write added a few lines likewise. After 
writing she forthwith insisted on her husband pro- 
ceeding to Piedmont without further delay and 
restoring Maso to his home. But as it was not ad- 
visable to leave his wife alone in such a delicate 
state of health, he requested her mother. Lady 
Bianca, then residing in Elorence, to come and re- 
main with Leonora pending his absence. Dur- 
ing that interval the revolution, and finally the 
war, broke out. Leopold encountered a multitude 
cf obstacles in his enterprise, and countless un- 
toward and unexpected circumstances, doubts, and 
fears met him on every side. 


272 The Hunter of the Alps. 

ConviDced that lie could not attain bis object on 
arriving at Turin without the powerful recommen- 
dation of some of the new-dedged satraps of Tus- 
cany, he obtained when at Elorence a favorable let- 
ter after much difficuliy and delay. Thereupon 
he took leave of Leonora, satisfied the presence of 
her kind mother would afford her peace and conso- 
lation during his absence. 

Leopold arrived at Turin three days later than 
the Countess Leonie. He had an audience with 
Count Cavour the morning after his arrival. His 
surprise may be imagined on learning from the 
minister that his son, belonging to the Second 
Eegiment of the Chasseurs of the Alps, had ob- 
tained his discharge at the instance of the Countess 

of . Eor a moment he remained silent and 

astounded. The count gave him the lady’s ad- 
dress, and once more assured him that it was a 
fixed fact. Then Leopold, politely taking leave of 
his excellency, repaired with all haste to Leonie’s 
hotel. On the way he suddenly recollected what 
Maso had written his mother relative to the young 
count, his cherished friend. The thought natu- 
rally suggested itself to his mind that the Coun- 
tess of must be the mother of the young count 

referred to, and that, owing to the warm friendship 
existing between the two soldier-comrades, she gra- 
ciously used her influence to bring about the dis- 
charge of both from the army. Deeply moved at 
this unlooked for act of kindness, and filled with 
feelings of gratitud'^, 1 e hastened his s'eps to the 
apartments of this excellent lady, burning with the 


273 


TJte Hujiter of the Alps, 

desire of again meeting liis beloved boy and restor- 
ing liim to his grief-stricken mother. 

Scarce had Leopold arrived at the entry of the 
hotel than he eagerly enquired : 

Where are the apartments occupied by the 
Countess ?” 

The lady is absent, together with all her atten- 
dants, and I cannot say, sir, when they will be 
back.” 

“ But where is she gone ?” 

That I really do not know ; she took the train 
to-day for the second time since her arrival here. 
That is the only information I am able to give 
you.” 

To-day ? ” answered Leopold, with surprise. 
‘‘But will she return ?” 

“Certainly, sir; she will còme back accompanied 
by some other friends, for her steward gave us in- 
structions to have another suite of rooms prepared 
for her. Besides, almost all her baggage is here 
still.” 

“ But did she not say when she would return ?” 

“No, sir. If you have any message to leave for 
her it will bo duly attended to, however.” 

Leopold remained undecided, and for a moment 
seemed disposed to leave again ; then quickly ap- 
proaching the servant, he asked somewhat hesitat- 
ingly : 

“ The countess has gone to Turin on business ?” 

“ Yes, sir, on business of the highest importance. 
She has just gone to have an interview with Count 
Cavour,” 


274 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


Do }on linovv the nature of her bus’ness ?” 

‘‘ Oh ! I am but an ordinary servant, sir ; how 
do \oii suppose that I can know all that is goincf 
on among my superiors ? ” 

‘‘ The deuce ! How is it that you were not aware 
of these things ? ” 

“It is/’ said the other, looking firmly at Leo- 
pold, “just as I have said to you.” 

Leopold raised his hand to his forehead and 
cast his eyes on the ground, wrapped in anxious 
thought. 

“Well I” l e exclaimed suddenly, “you do your 
duty in not making gossip of the business of your 
boarders. But nothing forbids you to tell me if 
the countess has brought her son back 1o Turin ?” 

“ Sir, the countess has no son with her ; a young 
lady alone keeps her company. I have seen no 
more with them than a servant and a maid.” 

“ I see ! I’ll return again.” 

“ When it shall be your good pleasure, sir.” 




CHAPTER XXXIV. 

LAKE MAGGIORE. 

The beautiful city of Aroua lies on the edge of 
Lake Maggiore, whose limpid waters delight to re- 
flect its image. On the 28th of May the Countess 
Lconie sat pensive and alone under an awning that 
shaded the balcony of one of its elegant little man- 
sions. Her glance wandered listlessly on its rippling 
surface, spotted as if wi h pearls. The countess 
was pale. Her heart was heavy with her afiiiction. 
The splendid scene that was spread out before her, 
the gay and flowery bank', the beauteous lake isl- 
ets, and the verdant hillocks, had no charm for 
her. Her mind was filled with other thoughts, and 
of little moment to her now were the serene and 
azure sky, the balmy air, the crystal waters, the 
warbling birds, the sweet, odoriferous flowers ; for, 
engrossed in her sorrow, she was insensible to the 
calm and joyous smile of nature. Her look was 
languid and despondent, yet at times would she 
arouse hersdf when turning her eyes as if wiih a 
certain intense desire towards Ihe Lombard coun- 
try that spread away before her ; her bosom would 
heave with emotion, and as she would cast 
275 


276 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


some quick, nervous looks in that direction tears 
would roll down her cheeks. The very gladness of 
the spring season did not come as a balm to her 
soul ; it rather deepened her woe. Loud and heavy 
sighs would frequently escape from her without 
seeming to relieve. One hand covered her face, 
the other lay heavily, languidly on the cushions be- 
side her. Then she would place her elbow on the 
rail of the balcony, rest her head in her hand, and 
fix her long, quiet gaze, as in an ecstasy, on the 
azure blue of the heavens. As she did so her 
countenance would become flushed, as one whose 
strong, passionate soul was suddenly inflamed, ra- 
vished with a sublime love. 

On the night of Sunday, the 22d, the poor mo- 
ther was at the point of death because of her ex- 
cessive sorrow. All her past hopes were cast to 
the ground, and nothing seemed to take their 
place but the darkest and most melancholy pre- 
sentiments of the future. Driven to the edge of 
despair by her disappointment, her imj^ulse now 
was to leave Piedmont at once, return home, and 
breathe her last where her son Julian had passed 
the years of his childhood !... But Natalie 
besought and implored her, with a fervor and elo- 
quence Leonie could not resist, to abandon that 
idea; and she so succeeded in raising her mo- 
ther’s fallen courage as again to inspire her with 
hope and lead her to Borgomanero to travel and so- 
journ in the neighborhood of Lake Maggiore. The 
countess then sot out with her daughter and Flo- 
rence to go in search of Julian. The Chevalier Lu- 


The Hunter of the Alps. 277 

gene approved of this i)lan, and graciously offered 
his services as a companion and guide ; for he 
knew well the way. 

In vain did Florence, the venerable steward, 
grumble and murmur at it, for. he did not relish 
this journey. He recommended, as a matter of 
prudence, to leave Natalie behind in care of Clo- 
tilda, who had a great liking for her. Natalie, 
when she heard this, grew so indignant and cast on 
the hoary old grumbler a look so piercing that the 
poor fellow got confused, and turning towards the 
housemaid, in a half-audible tone muttered : 

^‘The mischief! How sensitive and hard to 
control the young lady has got to be ! It 
is now she who commands. ... At home she 
was quiet as a little dove, but here she has the 
tongue of a little asp. She wishes to have a hand 
in everything and lead my lady the countess about 
wherever she likes. I am nobody now. What 
will her uncle say to all this ? ’’ 

Natalie caught the last words. '•' What do you 
mean,” she said tartly, ‘‘by this talk of uncles or 
aunts ? You are brought here to assist us in re- 
covering my brother Julian, and instead of that 
your silence only embarrasses us. Who permitted 
you to suggest a separation between my mother 
and-me ? Are you by any chance her superior ?” 

“Nonsense !” replied Florence, with a shake of 
his head. “ My lady, do you hear all this ? ” and 
he rested his arm akimbo. 

“ It is true, every word of it,” retorted Natalie, 
whose beautiful features were flushed and red as a 


278 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


clieiTj. You desire to keep her at Turin and 
that I may not see my brother. Stay you here, if 
you like ; as for me, if necessary. I’ll go to the 
mouth of the Austrian cannon to save my brother. 
Yo^l have fears for me ! Look out for yourself, 
and that will be enough for you to do.” 

What !” said Florence, stung to the quick, and 
scarcely able to speak with emotion. My lady, 
you hear this ! You hear how bold the young 
lady has become, Never before did I hear such 
language from her. Fear ! Cowardice ! I a 
coward — I, who — ” 

There, there, good Florence,” said the coun- 
tess, that will do. Natalie looks to no one but 
myself. She shall go along with me. Attend you 
to the preparations for our journey, and be quick 
about it.” 

The old domestic went away grumbling to him- 
self ; and Leonie’s young daughter turned to her 
mother smiling, but with a certain severity in her 
air. 

The gnats must have been stinging this good 
man. To think that, after all my anxiety and 
trouble about poor Julian, I must not be one of 
the first to meet and embrace him ! Then to say I 
am impertinent and — ” 

^^Well, well, child,” said the countess, ‘‘say 
nothing more about it. And if you would be re- 
spected do not wrangle with old Florence. . . . 
Go and arrange your trunks.” 

“ Shall I bring one for J ulian, mother ? I had 
better get him a complete outfit, that he may at 


The Hunter of the Alps. 279 

once have a change of wardrobe. It is necessary to 
^ bring one; Grod knows in what dress the poor 
fellow will appear.” 

^^.Ah ! you mischievous little one. Now, don’t 
you really think you can beguile your mother up to 
the last moment ? Do as you desire. Take with 
you what you please. But do pray, my child — 
pray to God that your brother may be still alive.” 

The good, pious girl felt a remorse for her anger 
with Florence. Before going to prepare for the 
journey she went to see him and ask his pardon. 
Florence was completely soothed, and, clasping his 
hands, said: 

I know, I know, my dear young mistress, that 
it is only your love for my young master that made 
you so unusually severe on me. You were always 
a good angel ! Had Master Julian been like you 
what pain and trouble would he not have spared 
us ! Our dear Lady Leonie is gone to a shadow. 
She is a mere skeleton. But such is life !” 

On Monday, by the noonday train, they left for 
Biella. On the next day they were at Borgomanero. 
The chevalier deliberated with hiinself as to what 
action he would take — whether he would confine 
his search for Julian to the environs, or employ 
some faithful and sturdy peasant to cross the fron- 
tier, visit the Garibaldian troops, make enquiries, 
and return with information about Julian and his 
comrade. The latter proposition pleased Leonie. 
It was more congenial with the longing desires of the 
mother’s heart. She went, then, on Wednesday to 
Arona, the nearest village to the frontier; and 


28 o 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


our readers are already aware of liow the coura- 
geous messenger executed his part. 

The man agreed, in undertaking the task, to he 
back in two days exactly, unless detained by vio- 
lence. Words could not express the anguish, the 
agony of suspense under which the poor countess 
suffered in the meantime. The touching letter she 
sent her son could give no idea of it ; what pen, 
then, could describe the state of her soul when the 
evening appointed for the peasant’s return brought 
her, in his stead, the news of the battle of Varese ? 
The struggle in her soul between fear and hope 
and suspense was such as gave her no repose. No 
power on earth could quiet her disturbed feelings. 
At first she had hoped that Julian had crossed the 
frontier with his regiment under Garibaldi. But 
since this unfortunate engagement she desired 
quite the reverse. She Imagined him a wanderer 
among the neighboring mountains, lost and aban- 
doned in their defiles, exhausted and perishing from 
hunger, exposure, and fatigup in some gorge or 
lone dell — anywhere, in fact, if he- were only shel- 
tered from the bullets of the Austrians. None but 
a mother can read and understand the agony and 
torture of this poor heart. 

The good-natured chevalier and Plorencc returned 
on the morning of the 28 th inst., and they strove 
to raise her drooping spirit by kind, encouraging 
words ; for Leonie was worn to a 'shadow from the 
intense mental anxiety she endured. They told 
her that the current rumors seemed to imply that 
the Chasseurs of the Alps had not taken any part in 


The Hìuiter of the Alps. 


281 


the recent battle. But Leoiiic turned a deaf ear to 
all consolation. She was prepared for the worst, 
and now despaired of any good news. Her reply to 
them was : Cease, I beg of you, and do not repeat 
to me any more of these illusions of yours. I am 
not like you. I am a mother ; I have a mother’s 
feelings. These constant disappointments will be 
the death of me. I have given over all hope.” 

“ Look here, mother ! See ! he comes. lie is on 
the stairs !” cried Natalie, bursting into the room 
and throwing herself hysterically into her mother’s 
arms. 

Leonie felt as one waking from a dream. 

‘‘Who ? WTio comes ?” cried they all with one 
voice. 

“ He ! ” cried Natalie. “ The messenger sent to 
Julian. There he is 1” 

And in fact the peasant did present himself, hat 
ill hand, and advanced with a low and respectful 
bow to the countess. 

“ Well ? said the chevalier interrogatively. 

“ Well, I have found him,” said the peasant. 

“Whom?” cried the countess. “Julian? 
Have you found my boy ? ” 

“ No, indeed ! not yet, my lady,” said the messen- 
ger, “ but one of the Garibaldians, named Eupert.” * 

“ Good ! good !” cried Natalie, as she leaned on 
the chevalier’s arm; for she felt as if she was 
about to faint. 

“He lives,” cried the poor mother fervently. 
“ Blessed be Jesus, my Eedeemer !” 

* Julian’s assumed name in the army. 


282 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


A moinent of hesitation and silence followed. 
The good countess strove to recollect herself and 
think. Her natural color came again to the cheek 
of Natalie. Florence stood motionless as a statue, 
with his eyes wide open, and resting both hands 
on the marble mantelpiece. The chevalier smiled 
with an air of triumph as he stood bending and 
twisting the cane in his hand. All eyes were fixed 
on the messenger, who, not knowing how he could 
explain the cause of his delay, fumbled in his poc- 
kets for something ; and at length he drew forth a 
little scroll that Julian had confided to him, and 
handed it respectfully, as he had been instructed to 
do, to the countess, and a packet to her daughter. 

^^A letter! . . exclaimed the mother anx- 
iously, as she put out her hand to take it. 

‘‘And a present from my brother for me,’’ cried 
Natalie with no less emotion. 

In an epistle to a young lady friend, a few days 
after this, Natalie describes thus the feelings of 
her mother and herself : 

. .1 regret that the note written in lead- 
pencil by Julian from Solbiate has been mislaid. It 
contained but a few lines, but lines expressive of 
such deep feeling that mother was so much moved 
that she could not read them through. . . . They 
have been the greatest consolation to her. . . . Ho 
informs us, among other things, that he received 
our letters and portraits, sent him from Ohambery, 
and that h.e h.as kissed them a hundred times a 
day. . . . What a heart Julian has ! He speaks 
sorrowfully of a certain Augustus who died in his 


The Hunter of the Alps, 283 

arms at Varese ; and in a postscript of three lines to 
me he thanks me for some medals I sent him, and 
sends me the compliments of a dear young friend, 
Maso, who is now suffering from a wound. . . . 
He has certainly good reason to congratulate him- 
self. . . . He sent me, rolled up in a paper, a bul- 
let that lodged in his hat. . . . We had it encased 
in gold and hung up along with one of my rings, 
as a votive offering, in the Church of . 

When mother and I read the letter we made 
many enquiries of the brave countryman who had 
acted as our messenger. We desired then at all 
hazards to enter Lombardy and join my brother at 
Como. . . . The chevalier said this was entirely 
out of the question, and that we must abandon the 
idea. He assured mother that in a few days the 
Erench would have possession of Milan, so that 
she determined at once to return towards Turin, 
and wait at Varese until the road to Lombardy 
would become safer to travel on. It was a happy 
return ; and mother, although still anxious and 
worried, was much consoled. 

^^Of my own feelings I shall not speak now. 

, . . When we came to Chivasso we heard of the 
victory of Palestro. . . . And who should greet our 
arrival at our hotel in Turin but Uncle James. He 
was there before us ; but where was Julian ? Poor 
Maso and my poor brother I ... I cannot think of 
them without tears coming to my eyes. He sent 
us the card of Mr. Leopold. This gentleman, from 
his family name, turned out to be the father of 
Maso.^’ 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

MONTEBELLO. 

The very first sttp taken, as we have shown, by 
Marshal Ginlay in his occupation of the country 
was fatal to his cause ; and wc have seen how, from 
an ingenious and varied movement against the Sar- 
dinian capital, he suddenly assumes the defensive. 
Instead of falling on the enemy when they were as 
yet scattered, cutting them off as they arrived in 
their isolated detachments, and so completely put- 
ting them to rout, Giulay wasted almost a month, 
thus allowing them to collect in their strength. He 
squandered this time in fatiguing his troops on 
the roads and passes that approached the long and 
narrow tongue of land over which he ruled su- 
preme. 

The French all this time were daily arriving to 
the support of the Subalpine forces. They came 
in two separate detachments. One, under Marshal 
Baraguey d’Hilliers, occupied Liguria; the other, 
commanded by Marshal Oanrobert, extended its 
lines from Turin to Alessandria. This corps was to 
sustain the Piedmontese under their king, and who 
lay encamped behind the line of country between 
Casal, Valenza, and B.issignana. But soon a new 
2S4 


The Hunter of the Alps. 285 

order had to he taken ; so many French battalions 
poured down into Piedmont from the passes of 
Mont Cenis and from the landings on the Genoese 
river ; and Napoleon, who determined to take the 
chief command of the allied armies, suddenly ap- 
peared on the scene. 

He arrived oat in the roads of Genoa on the 12tli 
hfay in the magnificent steamer, the Queen Hor- 
tense. The waters of the 1 ay wore resplendent 
that morning with the countless yachts, gondolas, 
row-boats, yawls, schooners, and vessels of every 
kind in the gayest colors. They were decked out 
with flags and streamers of every color — green, 
blue, red, white — and the splendid and brilliant 
confusion was height ened when passing and repass- 
ing, going and returning ; and crushing one against 
the other as they rounded the imperial vessel, they 
literally covered the waters with roses and lilies 
and green branches. The thunderings of the can- 
non and the joyous acclamations of the populace 
saluted the emperor’s entry into port. As the em- 
peror’s carriage, with its rich and sumptuous trap- 
pings, passed rapidly through the streets, the gar- 
lands and flowers fell on it in a heavy mass. Nor 
was there an end to the public rejoicing and ban- 
queting, illuminations and fireworks, and loud ac- 
clamations of the people, until Napoleon III. set 
out for Alessandria. 

From the time of the arrival of the French em- 
peror in this city the allied forces — Franco-Sardi- 
nians — began a gradual and regular movement to- 
wards tue inactive Austrian army. They turned 


286 


The Hunter of the Alps» 


the supine inactivity of Giulay to good accoimc ; 
for, taking advantage of it, they drew up in line of 
battle along the banks of the Sesia and the Po, so 
that from Vercelli to Voghera they made a formid- 
able semicircle. This intrepid and ingenious 
movement enabled them to change their tact es 
from the defensive and to assume the offensive. 
And now the Austrian general, through liis own 
fault and neglect, was surrounded on all sides, and 
saw that there was nothing for him but to try and 
keep back the enemy from entering Lombardy. 
But now Giulay’s ditEculty was to find where, being 
concealed, they sought to effect a passage and land 
the formidable forces on the opposite bank, so he 
must reconnoitre the enemy’s position and draw him 
from his cover. 

With this object in view General Stadion was 
despatched to take vigorous action against the 
more advanced French columns, which, from their 
position at Vogherà, held the road to Placentia. 
Giulay intended this to be simply a reconnoitring 
affair, and not a regular engagement, yet he sent 
the detachments under Hurban and Baumgart- 
ner and Boer’s brigade, in all 20,000 men, with 
their proper complement of artillery, to support 
Stadion. 

The vanguard of General Siadion showed a front 
that extended over a German league. On the 
afternoon of the 20 h of May he opened a vigorous 
assault on the outposts of General Forey and a 
detachment of Piedmontese cavalry that lay on the 
outskirts of Montebello, above Casteggio. Gciiei-al 


The Hunter of the Alps. 287 

Hurban commanded the attack, an<i so violent and 
sweeping was ilic charge that the French and Sar- 
dinian forces were driven before it, followed up, 
pursued beyond the village of Montebello, and were 
not allowed to rest until they reached Genestrello, 
and even here they were in great danger of being 
cut down or surrounded and captured. General 
Forey, seeing this danger. Lurried up from Voghe- 
rà with his regulars and some pieces of artillery. 
With this he managed to check the pursuit and 
gain time for assistance to reach him by the rail- 
road from Tortona. When they arrived a lively 
engagement began at Genestrello. Ilurban was 
able to oppose and overwhelm Forey’s 6,000 men 
with 11,000, and then fall back on Stadion as a re- 
serve at Montebello; yet he only put 7,000 into the 
field. After a desperate struggle of an hour and 
a half, during which his gallant troops sustained 
with intrepidity the many furious charges of the 
French, each charge seeming, if possible, more 
vigorous than the former, he resolved to fall back 
on Montebello. But here Stadion committed the 
very same blunder as Hurban. He had twenty 
battalions at his disposition, and only allowed nine 
of them to engage. The allied forces then charged 
them with ten battalions and drove them beyond 
the village. 

The Austrian co mm an der-i 11 -chief sounded a re- 
treat at sunset, and his troops retired past Casteg- 
gio, closely pressed by General Forcy. He after- 
wards said that his reason for this movement was 
that the French were then getting reinforcements 


288 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


on the arrival of the forces of Bazaine, Haulemare, 
and Ladmirault. And, indeed, if the allies did 
again take the positions from which they had been 
driven, it was somehow or other at a heavy loss. 
For, according to the Austrian returns, what be- 
tween dead, wounded, and prisoners, but one thou- 
sand three hundred of their men were missing, 
while the Sardinians and French lost over one thou- 
sand men. Victory seemed ever on the side of the 
allies, and their unequal numbers gained a genuine 
respect with the Austrians for their valor. 

Napoleon knew well how to turn this to good ac- 
count. He resolved suddenly to occupy Novara ; 
then, by a rapid wheel on his flank, to force the 
passage of the Ticino, and fall like a thunderbolt on 
Milan. To render this daring enterprise a success 
before Giulayhad time to rally, the Austrians must 
be allowed to remain under the impression that it 
was the emperor’s idea to invest the fortifications on 
the lower Ticino and its confluent ; and it w'as 
with this object that the two army divisions under 
Baraguey and MacMahon respectively were delay- 
ed on the outskirts of Montebello, Casteggio, and 
Voghera, for when Marshal Giulay saw the French 
concentrate their forces here, he was convinced 
that their next effort would be made from that 
direction. And the more completely to deceive 
him, Napoleon threw across pontoons at various 
bends in the two rivers, especially lower down the 
river Po near Cersvesina. Nothing then was more 
evident to the Austrian commander than that the 
wliole and united efforts of the allied armies were 


The Huiiter of the Alps. 289 

to be centred there against Iheir terrible fortibca- 
tions with their formidable artillery. 

So, on the morning of the 28th inst., the French 
and Sardinians, under a well-affected guise of noys- 
tery, made a half-circuit to the left and began every 
necessary preparation to cross the Po at Casal and 
the Sesia at Vercelli, and thus effect an inroad on 
the plains at that extremity of Lombardy. The 
Austrian marshal had simply done them a service 
by his evacuation of Vercelli eight days previously, 
on the very day of the battle of Montebello. 

To the Piedmontese was entrusted the passage 
of the Sesia, and, though with much bloodshed, 
how bravely they fought and carried it, led on as 
they were by their king, is a matter of history. 
They took Palestro, which is the key to all the 
other passes between Novara and Montaro. And 
to hold this post against the Austrians, who were 
bound to retake it, they stretched every nerve. 
Again and again did the Austrians come up to the 
charge with a formidable resolution from Vinzag- 
lio, from Cusalino, and from Cinfienza. 

In the second engagement, which took place on 
the 31st inst., the Third Kegiment of French 
Zouaves was all but completely annihilated. These 
brave troops dashed forward under a heavy fire of 
grapeshot, with their heads lowered, that they 
might draw off the deadly fire of the Austrian artil- 
lery that was mowing down the battalions of Victor 
Emanuel. There can be no doubt but that the 
lives of the so-called heroes of Palestro ” were 
saved by the sacrifice of these five hundred Zouaves, 


2-90 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


and not merely that, but even the positions captured 
the evening before by the Piedmontese. 

But it is now time to return to the little thicket 
where we left our two young friends, and for the 
moment forget the army of the allies. 

After a period of anxiety and bewilderment 
Julian began calmly to consider what action he 
had better take amid these painful circumstances. 
After reflecting for some time he drew nearer his 
comrade, who was stretched upon the sw'ard ap- 
parently lifeless. His face was pale and motionless 
as marble, a half -melancholy smile lingered on his 
colorless lips, and the breeze gently tossed the locks 
of his silken hair. After having contemplated him 
for some time Julian knelt down softly beside him, 
and, tenderly lifting his head from its improvised 
pillow, rested it on his left arm. 

My dear Maso,” he cried, tell me what I can 
do for you. I would go to some of the neighboring 
houses in search of assistance, but how could I 
leave you here alone ? ” 

Maso opened his eyes, gazed tenderly at his 
friend for a moment, and murmured : 

“ I feel that I am dying. Where are we ?” 

“ We are in a small wood.” 

Oh ! do not let me die in the woods like an 
outcast. Go immediately and procure asdstance, 
if at all possible.” 

Julian forthwith hastened to perform his friend’s 
request, though it was with much reluctance and 
pain that he could ]iersuadc himself to leave him 
alone in his present melancholy condition. He was, 


The Htmier of the Alps. 291 

indeed, more deeply attached to Maso than if he 
had been his brother. From his first acquaintance 
with him his absorbing dream was to bring about 
the union of Maso and Natalie, and now even this 
project seemed to disappear, as did so many other 
dearly-cherished hopes. 

To the right of this little wood the ground 
gently sloped to the far-spreading meadow below. 
Scattered trees and thick-tangled shrubbery ex- 
tended for some distance in the direction of a 
cross-road. Across this declivity Julian bounded, 
and in a few moments arrived at a gate opening 
on the main road. Luckily, Julian at this instant 
met a peasant driving an ox-cart lazily along. The 
driver stopped short at Julian’s demand, and, not- 
withstanding the suspicions naturally begotten in 
his mind at sight of a Garibaldian’s uniform, he 
listened patiently to the young man’s story, agreed 
to accompany him to his friend’s presence, and 
endeavor to remove him to some place where he 
could be properly cared and attended to. The 
vehicle was again put in motion, and after pro- 
ceeding a full mile at least they arrived at a small 
country house. 

An aged woman was busily engaged in spinning 
inside the door, and two little children were play- 
fully splashing around in a horse-pond without. 
On being asked if she would not afford shelter to 
two Oaribaldians the good old lady grew very em- 
barrassed and replied : 

“But I am left here all alone to take care of 
those children ; the rest of the family are gone to 


292 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


Bergamo to be present afc a wcddiug festival, and 
will not return till to-morrow. The Austrians oc- 
cupy the whole country, and search every house 
they come across. To give lodgings to two G-ari- 
baldians 1 Why, gracious ! only think of the con- 
sequences. If you are found you will be shot, 
and I — Oh ! no ; go away. I could not enter- 
tain the idea for an instant.” 

Thereupon Julian drew forth a handful of glit- 
tering gold pieces from his pocket, shook them 
before her, and this very simple artifice seemed to 
act on the frightened old dame with a marvellous- 
ly soothing effect. 

After having liberally rewarded the driver, Ju- 
lian, with his assistance, helped Maso from the 
wagon and laid him on a bed in a room, pointed 
out to them by their hostess, on the ground floor. 
The peasant went on his way, and Julian remained 
beside his friend to afford him comfort and minis- 
ter to his wants. 

Liberata — for such was the good old lady’s name — 
earnestly implored Julian to conceal his musket un- 
derneath the stairway. He readily consented on 
beholding the half- jubilant, half-suspicious look of 
his good hostess. Before evening she had prepared 
everything at her disposal calculated to add to 
Maso’s comfort. The latter, after a time, asked 
for a drink of fresh water, the only nourishment 
he could be induced to take, and anxiously enquir- 
ed where he was. 

For more than an hour the sound of musketry 
was heard in the distance without a moment’s in- ^ 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


293 


terniption, which seemed to come from the village 
of Cc\ vailasca, and reverberated among the sur- 
rounding hills and valleys. The peasants through- 
out the neighborhood were seized with affright. 
Julian comprehended in the twinkling of an eye 
that the Austrians and the Chasseurs of the Alps 
were engaged. 

In vain did he endeavor to calm the old lady’s 
fears ; she bolted the door, barricaded the windows, 
and remained nestled ina corner with the children, 
wondering and dreading what each moment would 
bring. 

Julian informed his friend — who desired to call 
to his presence the parish priest and doctor, both 
of whom lived some three miles distant — that their 
forces and the enemy were engaged in battle hard 
by, and that no one would venture out without in- 
curring a deadly risk, and added : 

I will go at daybreak myself, cost what it may. 
Besides, you seem to me to be much improved.” 

‘‘Julian, I feel that I am dying,” answered Maso 
in the feeblest tone. “It were impossible to ima- 
gine how I suffer. And the most intense pain of 
all is to die alone and uncared for in this desolate 
place.” 

“ But I am fully convinced there is no danger of 
you, at least not to-night.” 

“Oh ! what will mother say on learning of my 
untimely and melancholy death ? — she who loved 
me with such ineffable love. In her youth her 
life was an unbroken martyrdom, and my death 
will now send her in sorrow to the grave.” 


294 The Hunter of the Alps. 

After a brief si’’ence Muso continued : 

‘^Julian, you can never conceive how deeply I 
feel your constant kindness towards me. My only 
remaining consolation is that I die in your arms. 
1 beg you not to neglect to inform my parents of 
my death and the spot where I am laid. Tell them 
that my last thought was of them, and that I died 
at peace with all mankind.” 




CHAPTER XXXm 
Julian’s uncle. 

In the latter part of May the Count James set 
out for Turin. The Countess Leonie, his sister-in- 
law, and Natalie were agreeably surprised, on their 
return from Arona, to meet him at their hotel. 
His arrival occasioned the greatest happiness, and 
the evening of Tuesday, 31st May, was spent amid 
pleasure and rejoicing. Leonie, who had grown 
quite hopeful since receiving the note from Solbiate, 
was assured by the Chevalier Eugene that she 
could, after the lapse of a few days, enter Lombardy 
and effect the liberation of her son. This welcome 
intelligence dissipated the cloud of despair that 
hung heavily on her mind, and so revivified and 
encouraged dier that, but for the pensive and 
melancholy air she assumed betimes, one would 
scarcely have recognized her. Still, the cruel traces 
of suffering were imprinted on her brow, and her 
languid and listless look from time to time recalled 
the rude trials she had sustained. Her daughter, 
who, like all persons of her years, pushed all her 
feelings to excess, had changed hope into absolute 
certainty. She appeared so jubilant and gay that 


296 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


her uncle half suspected that Julian had really re- 
turned with them to Turin, and that they conceal- 
ed his return in order to surprise him. 

But this suspicion vanished when he beheld the 
visiting card of Mr. Leopold presented to the 
countess, and heard her express her regret that that 
gentleman had left Turin. The family name im- 
printed on the card led Leonie to believe that Leo- 
pold was none other than Maso’s father. 

When did he leave ? ” enquired the countess, 
addressing one of the servants standing by. 

‘^The day before yesterday, about noon, ma- 
dame.” 

And why in the world did he not wait till we 
returned ? ” 

Madame, he was very anxious to find out the 
exact time you would come back, but I was unable 
to give him any definite information. He was like- 
wise very eager to know your object in coming to 
Turin ; but I did not deem it proper to give a stran- 
ger any intelligence anent other people’s business. 
On Sunday last he entered my room, and, with trou- 
bled look, informed me that his wife was stricken 
down by a severe attack of fever, and that he had 
just received a despatch calling him home to Tuscany 
immediately. He then gave me his card, and in 
haste withdrew.” 

“ Poor man !” exclaimed the countess with 
emotion, how I sympathize with him ! Two 
evils at once — ^his wife dangerously ill, and his son 
in Garibaldi’s army.” 

Yes, and wounded too,” added Natalie in a 


The Htinitr of ihe Alps. 297 

tremulous voice. J ulian told us that he was very 

anxious about his recovery.” 

“If Mr. Leopold had but left us his address, 
we could have written him,” answered the countess 
in a disappointed tone. 

‘‘And what could we say to him ? It is much 
better that he has gone away without seeing us, 
since we could give him but the melancholy news 
of his son’s critical condition.” 

The countess now took leave of the servant, and 
resumed her conversation with her brother-in-law 
on the same endless subject, and with more than 
her usual sensibility. 

Julian’s uncle had not, as the reader may readi- 
ly conceive, left the Romagna and hurried to 
Turin on a mere pleasure trip. Observing that 
Leonie’s absence was indefinitely prolonged, and 
that, too, to no purpose ; fearing that the mother or 
daughter might meantime succumb to the fatigue 
and trouble and disappointment they had to en- 
counter, he determined to undertake the task of 
accomplishing Julian’s liberation himself, and in- 
ducing the two ladies to return home. However, 
he did not communicate his intentions in this re- 
gard till the following morning, pretending, mean- 
time, that his sole object in coming to Turin was to 
seethe countess and Natalie, and assure himself 
that the latter had completely recovered from her 
recent attack of illness at Chambery. 

“ Well, do you not find her entirely recovered ?” 
asked the comitegs before retiring to her apart- 
ment, 


298 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


cannot say that I do,” lie answered some- 
what nervously ; ^^slie appears to me very care- 
worn and feeble, and she has lost her former 
vivacity and healthful aspect.” 

^‘That is quite true,” answered the mother with 
a deep sigh. ‘‘ I have for some time back observed 
a great change coming over her, and T know not 
what remedy to apply. The physicians see her 
every day, and assure me that nothing is the mat- 
ter with her. • That faintness and depression you 
have remarked are the effects of fatigue, want of 
sleep, and continued grief. Poor girl I a thorn hag 
entered her heart. IIow could you expect her to 
appear otherwise under such melancholy circum- 
stances ? ” 

“And you, too, madame, you are wasting away 
like a candle. You are so changed ! Why, you ap- 
penr ten years older than when you left home.” 

“Oh ! do not be uneasy about me,” answered 
Leonie ; “I feel very well, and if God, in his good- 
ness, but restore Julian to my arms, you will soon 
say that I appear twenty years younger. And Na- 
talie, too, will soon resume her wonted gayety and 
strength.” 

“ Well, T hope so ; but I sincerely wish both of 
you would take a little rest. You must be completely 
exhausted from all your runnings here and there, 
in heat and cold, and lodging in places very often 
void of every accommodation and comfort. But 
we will talk of all this to-morrow. Good-night.” 

Count James thereupon took a light and retired 
to his room. 


The Hunter of the Alps, 299 

Mo Llier,” asked Natalie, who just then came 
in, what did uncle say about me ? I heard him 
mention my name as I passed.” 

‘‘He wishes you to take plenty of rest and not be 
so fidgety. Go to your room now, sleep well, and 
may Heaven bless you, my child !” 

‘^Did he speak about bringing me home 
again ? ” 

Not at all. What in the world put that idea 
into your head ? ” 

Florence told me that uncle had come here to 
bring me home.” 

I wish Florence would hold his tongue. You 
will always remain with your mother. And now 
retire to your room, offer up a prayer for Julian, 
and go to sleep.” 

Count James was a man of great force of charac- 
ter and singularly impulsive. Of excitable temper 
and imperious disposition, he could brook no 
opposition. Woe betide those rash enough to 
gainsay him ! But after the first impulse of pas- 
sion had passed away he would grow suddenly 
calm, acknowledge his fault, and beg pardon of 
even the humblest he might have offended. The 
Countess Leonie understood perfectly the eccen- 
tricities and temperament of her brother-in-law, 
who, apart from this, was endowed with excellent 
qualities. Ilis honesty, generosity, and kindness 
more than amply atoned for his hasty disposition 
and irritable temper. In her relations with him 
regarding all matters of importance she acted with 
finesse and sagacity, never abruptly contradicting 


300 • The Hunter of the Alps, 

him, giving him, like a skittish horse, so much 
rein that he would end by obeying the slightest 
sign. Hence, when the countess could not agree 
with him, especially in everything relating to the 
interests of Julian and Natalie, she had to act with 
great adroitness, weigh well her words, and humbly 
lay aside the stately air which so well became her 
when dealing with her children. 

On the following morning, June 1, whether by 
accident or by a supreme effort of self-control. 
Count James informed the countess in the most 
amiable manner possible that he was determined 
to take her place in searching for Julian. He 
met all her objections and parryings with such 
a quiet dignity and calm firmness of purpose 
that the countess, in presence of that unexpected 
coolness and invincible persistence, lost courage 
and remained silent. But after a few brief mo- 
ments she resumed the discussion, and, waxing 
warm as she proceeded, so far forgot herself as to 
lose her temper, and even use sharp and bitter 
words. The count, who likewise felt his temper 
rising, chafed uneasily, but managed to suppress 
the tempest ready to burst forth. 

“Let us speak no more about it,’’ he finally 
retorted in a harsh and angry tone; “I did not 
make this long journey for the purpose of con- 
trolling or irritating you. Yes, madame, you are 
at perfect liberty to go where it pleases you, and I 
do not pretend to exercise or possess the slightest 
authority over you. Act as you deem proper; 
lose your life from the effects of fatigue, if you 


The Himter of the Alps. 301 

will, and laave your children helpless orphans ; but 
recollect that, if you are their mother, I am their 
uncle and their guardian. I shall not allow you to 
wear out Natalie and weary her to death. You 
may, I repeat, do as you please with yourself ; but 
I will start this very evening with my niece and 
bring her home. Her aunt will receive her with 
open arms, and bestow on her that care denied by 
her mother by the promptings of a false affection.” 

What ! take my child away in spite of me ? ” 
exclaimed the countess, livid with emotion and 
anger. AVhy, you must be crazy ; I will pre- 
vent any attempt to do so with my latest breath.” 

“ Leonie ! for Heaven’s sake be reasonable ; do 
not abuse my patience for ever. I am talking 
sound sense and giving you good advice ; and yet 
you insult me. But, knowing that it is the result 
of a fond mother’s love, I pardon you. I under- 
stand yqur condition, and sympathize with you 
sincerely. It pains me deeply, I assure you, to be 
compelled to adopt such severe measures; but you 
know perfectly well there is not the slightest ne- 
cessity to be thus wearing your life away and send- 
ing this poor child to her grave when I have come 
purposely to search for Julian and bring him home. 
You know that he is no less dear to me than to 
you.” 

This mild and just rebuke caused the countess 
to reflect, and, after a few moments’ silence, she 
rose hastily from her seat and quitted the apart- 
ment. 

The count, not yet in the best of humor, re- 


302 


The Hìinter of the Alps, 


mained buried in bis huge arm-cbair, absorbed in 
anxious tliougbt. After meditating for a con- 
siderable time he rang the bell and brusquely or- 
dered the servant to tell Natalie to come to his pre- 
sence at once. The girl, totally unconscious of the 
discussion that had just taken place, entered the 
room "with a quiet, respectful air, and approached 
him. 

“ How do you do, uncle ? ’’ she asked with a 
charming smile. 

Very well, my darling. Sit down on the sofa 
here for a moment. I hope you are well to-day.” 

Perfectly, uncle.” 

‘•Did you rest well last night ?” 

“Yes, splendidly.” 

“ But why are you looking so pale ? You seem 
on the verge of the grave.” 

“Oh ! that’s nothing ; I never think of it. But 
tell me, uncle, when shall we start for Vercelli ? 
We hoped to go there from Verona, but it was im- 
possible, as all the roads were occupied by the 
soldiers. Florence told me last night that the 
Austrians had evacuated Vercelli, so that the 
Garibaldians may be there now. Don’t you think 
so ? ” 

“ 0 you fooliih child ! the Garibaldians are 
more than fifty miles bejond, and surrounded by 
the Austrians, who hold all the roads.” 

“Dear me ! and why did Florence tell me such 
a thing ?” 

“Ah ! the good man studios his geography in 
the kitchen, and studies it upside down at that. 


The Hunter of the Alps. 303 

But tell me, would you like to come and take a 
short promenade with your uncle this morning ? ’’ 
think mamma wishes me to accompany her 
to the Church of the Consolata and assist at 
Mass.’’ 

‘^But you can spare a few moments first in tak- 
ing a walk among the fashionable shops of Turin, 
and see if there he anything there that may strike 
your fanc3\ What do you wish me to purchase for 
you ? I have five hundred francs here which I 
purpose expending on you.” 

‘‘ My dear uncle, nothing that you could get can 
afford me the slightest pleasure till we find Julian. 
The most acceptable present you could bestow on 
mother and me were to bring us immediately to 
Vercelli, and to-morrow to follow closely the rear- 
guard of the French forces. At Chambery mamma 
made the acquaintance of several French generals, 
all gentlemen of extraordinary politeness, and I am 
convinced that some of them will enable us to 
arrive at the position occupied by Garibaldi.” 

^^Ah ! you are talking foolishly, my dear. But 
you couldn’t guess the idea that has just come to 
my mind. You have not as yet seen Louis, that lit- 
tle cousin of yours who made his bow to the world 
just three days after your departure from home.” 

Oh ! how I long to see him ; aunt and you 
have written such wonders about him to us.” 

You cannot imagine how lovely ho is. Why 
not come and see him ? You require a little recre- 
ation now after your long and wearying journey.” 

^‘ Certainly ; my brother and I will be delighted 


304 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


to go home with you. Let us first find Julian and 
bring him away from the Garibaldians ; then we 
shall all set out for home, and I will then soon em- 
brace your charming little Louis. May I go and 
tell mamma to prepare to start at once ?” 

Scarce had Natalie asked the question when the 
door was violently fiung open. The countess, hold- 
ing a newspaper in her hand, entered the room and 
in a paroxysm of grief shrieked out : 

‘‘0 James ! Julian is dead — yes, surely dead.” 

‘‘0 God !” gasped Natalie, and fell motionless 
on her uncle’s neck. 

Look you here,” continued Leonie, addressing 
the count, holding out the paper in her hand. 

Count James remained for an instant as if petri- 
fied. For a space neither uttered a word. It were 
vain to endeavor to describe the agony of that mo- 
ment. 

What is the matter?” cried the count as he 
tenderly raised Natalie in his arms. ^‘What did 
you say ? Julian dead ? ” 

‘^Yes, I am sure he is dead,” sobbed Leonie. 
‘‘Look at the morning paper that has just been 
handed me. Read that despatch.” 

The count seized the journal with nervous grasp, 
and in a tremulous voice read the following lines : 

Ministry of the Interior . — War Bulletin No. 54. 

“ TuRiiq-, May 28 , a.m. 

“The following despatch of the Royal Com- 
missary Visconte Venosta has arrived to-night .by 
the Swiss line: ‘General Garibaldi has occupied 
tiu^ position of San Fermo. His troops terribly 


The Hunter of the Alps. 305 

cut up. Several officers killed and wounded. Con- 
tinuing the attack, our troops have entered Como. 
The city illuminated and given over to rejoicing. 
The enemy is still at Camerlata.’” 

Why, there is no mention of Julian in this.” 

“But, merciful God ! it is impossible, it is im- 
possible that Julian can have escaped iu this new 
and terrible engagement.” 

The count stared at Leonie for a moment, with 
a look of mingled indignation and compassion, and 
then, turning to his niece, said : 

“[N'ever mind, this is only another freak of fancy 
on the part of your mother.” 

INTatalie, as if waking from a dream, seized her 
uncle’s hand and exclaimed 

“You will not deceive me ; you will tell me the 
truth, will you not ? ” 

After a thousand assurances the countess and her 
daughter yielded to the argumentsof Count James, 
who endeavored to persuade them that they were 
but the victims of a groundless fear. He agreed to 
start immediately by the Swiss line, and not to re- 
turn without his nephew ; on the condition, how- 
ever, that on the following morning Leonie and 
Natalie would start for Genoa. This condition 
Leonie submitted to with great reluctance, not- 
withstanding the pleading cf Chevalier Eugene, 
who, meantime, had appeared on the scene. It 
was accordingly agreed that on the evening of the 
same day the count would hasten toward the Alps, 
and that the two ladies, on the following morning, 
would take the train fur the Ligurian frontier. 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

THE CAMELLIAS. 

About four o’clock on the afternoon of the, same 
day the Count James and his sister-in-law convers- 
ed together in the parlor, while Natalie, in an ad- 
joining chamber, prepared Julian’s trunk, which 
her uncle purposed adding to his baggage. As she 
performed her task the tears fell fast from her eyes 
— the most precious offering of a loving heart. 

The conversation between James and. the coun- 
tess turned very naturally on his proposed journey. 
What route would he take to arrive safe and speed- 
ily at Como ? What joy he would experience on be* 
holding Julian, and restoring him to his family safe 
and well ! The countenance of James beamed with 
delight at his having persuaded the countess and 
her daughter to return home and enjoy the repose 
they so sorely needed. Leonie, on the contrary, 
agitated by different and frequently opposite emo- 
tions, revealed in her every glance the barb that 
rankled in her heart. 

Well, have you any other instructions or orders 
to give me ? ” asked the count, who, observing the 
liesitation and embarrassment of Leonie, wished to 

encourage her to speak her thoughts. 

300 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


307 


‘‘No, none, exce^Dt to entreat you for the hun- 
dredth time to treat Julian with the greatest mild- 
ness and consideration ; to receive him with every 
mark of tenderness, to act towards him as a father, 
or as a mother rather, since you take my place for 
the time being.” 

“ As to that you may make your mind easy ; 
I will restore him to your arms crowned with 
roses.” 

“Poor boy !” exclaimed the countess, in a sad, 
half-listless tone. 

“ Take matters easy, please. If Julian had not 
been so headstrong, bold, and haughty, all this 
trouble would have been spared us. The fault is 
his, and his alone. We shall agree to forget all 
that, however. But it would never do to go into 
his presence beating our breasts and crying out, 

‘ Mea culpa I’ for having reprimanded and punished 
him as he deserved.” 

“No, no, James, do not, for heaven’s sake, 
touch that chord ! You should not say a word re- 
garding the past — should not even allude to it. Let 
him think that he is right in everything he says ; 
impress on him that his mother still loves and es- 
teems him as ever, and that she believes he was en- 
tirely innocent.” 

“ Ha ! that sounds well. You, are talking seri- 
ously, of course ? ” added the count with a grim 
smile. 

“ What else can I say ? To be candid, I scarce 
know what to think. If you but knew the strife 
that rends my soul ! Julian, on the one hand. 


3o8 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


protests vehemently in his letters that that foolish 
idea never came into his mind ; and, on the other 
hand, I have all the indications and proofs that you 
know, and which seem calculated, to convince any 
one to the contrary. It is a tangled skein, which, 
do what I may, I am unable to unravel.” 

Wonderful indeed ! But it seems to me that 
an excessive love on your part dims your intelli- 
gence and blunts your faculty of penetration. It is 
either a positive fact, or it is not, that for a long 
time Julian always came home with a bunch of 
flowers, under the hollow pretext of presenting 
them to his sister.” 

‘^Alas ! it is but too true.” 

Is it or is it not certain that he got those 
flowers from Beatrice; that Bernard, the lady’s 
father, informed you that Julian entertained a 
special regard for her ; and that he even spoke of 
asking her hand in marriage ? And did not a 
multitude of other persons besides inform you that 
Julian was in the habit of visiting frequently 
Bernard’s shop ? ” 

Yes ; but Julian, whom I have never known to 
tell an untruth, indignantly denies having ever en- 
tertained such a thought as he was accused of ; and 
only the other day, in his note from Solbiate, he 
positively affirms that he plucked the camellias with 
his own hand or received them from Bernard ; that 
he saw Beatrice but very rarely, and never exchang- 
ed words with her in his life. How, then, can I 
doubt such a positive and plain declaration by such 
a virtuous and dutiful son ? ” 


The Htintcr of the Alps, 309 

The count replied in a half-derisive, half-angry 
tone : 

How very simple you are ! You do not seem 
to reflect that from the month of December to the 
month of March Julian never dreamt of offering 
any denial to those repeated accusations. But now 
that he has disgraced his family by turning bandit, 
he tries to justify his action, pours out a flood of 
indignant eloquence, and undertakes to show that 
we all were but fools and dreamers. The imperti- 
nent scamp ! 

‘‘ James, I do not want to hear you use such 
harsh language. Do not, I entreat you, give way 
to your too hasty temper.’’ 

‘^No, no; I am not in the least angry; lam 
cool as can be. But then there are some things 
which would excite the indignation of a saint, and 
this late piece of impudence on Julian’s part is one 
of them.” 

“Just listen to me for a moment,” replied the 
countess, who used every effort to appease Count 
James, who seemed to be in anything but good 
humor. “ While he did not expressly make men- 
tion to Don Egidio of the offence of which he was 
accused, Julian, nevertheless, contended always 
that ho was unjustly blamed. And when you your- 
self so severely rebuked him, did he not deny the 
accusation by the bitter tears he shed ?” 

“Yes, yes; but we want some more substantial 
proof than tears. Why did he refuse to utter a 
■ word ? Was he tongue-tied ?” 

“ He did not speak, for he knew very well you 


310 


The Hunter of the A Ips, 


would not listen to him. Besides he is, as you 
know, of a proud and haughty disposition, and, 
being at war with us all at the time, ho would not 
satisfy us to act a humble part. He is, when his 
pride is touched, the very counterpart of his father, 
and has a little dash of your own temper besides.” 

^‘But with you, at least, he should speak frankly 
and without reserve. Julian was always ardently 
'attached to you, could not let a moment pass with- 
out hanging on your apron-strings. IIow, then, 
did he all at once lose confidence in you ? How 
is it that he studiously seized every occasion to 
slight you for three months — three whole months ? 
Ah ! my dear Leonie, you cannot persuade me 
that there was nothing wrong. If he but yielded to 
his whims in this matter, his conduct would be 
pardonable, however. Bat to rush into the jaws of 
death because we sought to prevent him from ruin- 
ingall his future prospects ! You may believe him 
as innocent as a babe, if it pleases you, but I frankly 
assure you that I don’t believe any such thing.” 

Do not be so hasty, I repeat. Assuredly I 
have no interest in palliating Julian’s errors, nor 
do I offer any excuse for his rebelling against me as 
he did. I know full well the grief and anguish of 
heart he has caused me. Still, after all, the more I 
reflect on it the more am I convinced that he never 
for a moment conceived the idea of marrying that 
young lady. It is impossible. Moreover, on being 
ordered by you to visit Bernard's shop no more, he 
immediately obeyed ; of that I have absolute cer- 
tainty. True, he disobeyed me on one occasion ; 


The Hunter of the Alps. 3 1 1 

but I presume he did it for the purpose of bringing 
me the camellias which, not thinking any danger 
would be incurred, I asked him to procure for me. 
How foolish I Avas I have since discovered by — ” 
That’s all right,” interrupted the count ; ‘^but 
why entertain such a furious hate against you ? 
Why should he come to me to liberate him from 
your control, and boast that he would never more 
have the slightest intercourse with you ? ” 

‘‘Oh ! that too can be readily understood, if he 
be only judged with the indulgence he deserves.” 

“Indulgence the deuce ! What indulgence can 
be extended to such conduct as that ? ” 

“ J ulian having learned from you on that occasion 
when you reprimanded him so harshly that I had 
complained of him and denounced him to you, he 
doubtless thought, as he was perfectly blameless, 
that I had unjustly maligned him. He therefore 
grew morose and taciturn, and shunned my very 
presence. Moreover, for three weeks consecutively 
I was unreasonably severe with him, and capped 
the climax by snubbing him that evening in pre- 
sence of all the company. What wonder, then, that 
a youth of his fiery and impulsive character should 
give himself up to the promptings of pride and 
anger, and huiTy on blindly to ruin ? The more I 
reflect on it the keener grows the sting of remorse, 
for I fear that, by the exercise of excessive rigor in 
dealing with him, I plunged him, before I could 
realize the result of niy action, into the abyss of de- 
struction. And now I need never expect to see 
him more !” 


312 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


Overcome with emotion, she could say no more ; 
and the count, moved by the agony of soul she en- 
dured, gently replied : 

Yes, yes ; you will see him again before many 
days. There is not the slightest ground for ap- 
prehension.” 

I shall see him again, you say. But what if 
he has been slain at San Fermo ” 

Not the slightest danger ; you always look at 
the melancholy side of everything.” 

Oh ! you cannot understand a mother’s affec- 
tions. You can never conceive the anguish I en- 
dured. And you are astonished to see me wasting 
away. Indeed, the wonder is that I am living at 
at all. 0 count ! I supplicate you, by all that is 
most dear to us both, if you find Julian, to treat 
him with the greatest tenderness, and restore him 
to my arms happy and delighted. Let there be 
no reproaches, no recriminations, no allusions ; 
nothing but gentleness and kindness. I exact this 
promise of you.” 

I repeat for the hundredth time that you may 
make your mind easy on that head. I will over- 
whelm him with kindness. Think you that I have 
not as much affection for him as I ought ? ” 

‘‘By the bye,” added the countess quickly, “I 
must give you a note to him ; I shall have it ready 
in a few moments.” And as she spoke she passed 
into her own apartment. 

Shortly after they partook of dinner, and Count 
J ames took leave of Leonie and daughter. He start- 
ed directly for Domadossola, whence crossing the 


The Hunter of the Alps» 313 

Swiss frontier by the valleys of Vigezzo and Luse- 
rone, he thought to arrive at Oomo, and reach the 
encampment of the Chasseurs of the Alps. 

On the following morning Leonie, Natalie, and 
Florence bade farewell to Chevalier Eugene and 
took the train for Oenoa. Madame Clotilda, in. 
her kindness, insisted on accompanying the count- 
ess to Alessandria, where she pretended to be 
called on important business. 

Adieu, Turin ! ” exclaimed Natalie sadly, as 
the .train moved out of the station. ‘‘How much 
happier were we on arriving within your walls than 
we are in departing from them now I ” 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 


AGNES. 

Our three travellers engaged a drawing-room 
car for themselves exclusively, as they desired quiet 
and seclusion. Madame Clotilda was seated between 
the countess and her daughter, the waiting-maid 
and Florence sat opposite, the latter so situated as 
to be able to pour out his flood of warlike talk to 
Xatalie,. as was his wont. The battle of Palestro, 
the details of which filled all the papers, offered 
him an exhaustless subject of conversation. 

The first part of the journey was passed in al- 
most unbroken silence. The countess was deject- 
ed, discouraged, melancholy, scarce able to con- 
tain her pent-up grief. To return home without 
her son seemed to her like a descent into the tomb. 
Natalie, equally disconsolate, kept her eyes fixed 
on the pages of a book which she tried in vain to 
read. Florence meantime was busy turning over 
the leaves of a bundle of newspapers placed on 
his knees, and, what with his ominous head-shak- 
ings and exclamations of wonder, soon excited 
Natalie’s curiosity. 

Leonie, after a lengthy spell of silence, wishing 
to divert her attention from melancholy thoughts 
314 


The Hunter of the Alps 315 

and dark forebodings, entered into conversation 
with Madame Clotilda in French, while Florence 
undertook in the most grandiloquent style to en- 
lighten Natalie on the subject of the war. The 
two ladies were soon chatting in a very familiar 
manner on a variety of subjects. In her relations 
with Clotilda the countess had perceived that she 
carried hidden in her soul some melancholy secret, 
for joy and gayety seemed to have utterly forsalTen 
her. Even when she most tried to appear joyous 
and happy the penetrating eye of Leonie saw that 
the happiness was assumed, that the smile and 
laugh were languid, forced, artificial. 

‘‘Believe me, countess, you are not the unhap- 
piest mother in the world,” remarked Clotilda 
sadly. “You have your lovely and dear child 
Natalie ever by your side, an angel of comfort and 
consolation ; and Julian once restored to you, 
all your sufferings will be over. But I, on the 
contrary, must continue to suffer, without other 
consolation than faith, with no other hope than 
the mercy of the Lord.” 

“ May I ask, madame, the cause of such cruel 
pain ?” . - 

“Certainly ; I shall tell you unhesitatingly. My 
daughter, alas ! who seemed to be born but to enjoy 
all the happiness and felicities of life, is at this mo- 
ment plunged in a sea of unutterable woe. Of 
four lovely children Agnes is the only one left me. 
In accordance with the wishes of her father she 
was educated in France by the Ladies of the Sacred 
Heart, under whose tuition she grew up a pious 


3i6 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


and accomplished lady. At the age of eighteen 
she evinced an inclination for embracing a reli- 
gious life. Was it a divine vocation or simple 
fancy ? I did not dare to question her on so criti- 
cal a point ; and I cannot think of it even at this 
moment without a shudder of inexpressible horror. 
For if it was a real vocation, I — I, her mother — have 
been, through an excessive and ill-conceived affec- 
tion, the deadly enemy of that innocent soul !^’ • 

No, no ! ” impetuously cried the countess ; a 
mother’s love may occasionally be mistaken, but it 
can never lead her so far as to be the enemy of her 
offspring.’^ 

^‘Ah ! no, I speak advisedly,” replied Clotilda, 
brushing away the tears that welled to her eyes. ^^An 
implacable remorse devours my very soul — remorse 
for having prevented my daughter from respond- 
ing to the promptings of divine grace, and changed 
a life of happiness into a life of torment. God had 
made her the object of his predilection, and had 
wrested her from all the dangers of a wicked world, 
till I in my folly intervened and thwarted the 
workings of divine grace in her heart. Behold the 
iron that has entered my soul, the wound that wiil 
not be healed !” 

Continue, nry dear lady ; pour forth your sor- 
rows into the bosom of a friend who entertains 
toward you the sentiment of tenderest pity.” 

‘‘Deaf to her entreaties, unmoved by her tears, 
I forced my daughter away from the holy asylum 
wherein she had been so piously brought up. I 
brought her houie, and endeavored by all kinds of 


The Hunter of the Alps. 317 

distractions, pleasures, and amusements to dissuade 
her from following her pious resolve. Still she 
continued pensive and melancholy, refusing to 
share in any of the worldly pleasures with which 
she was surrounded. At length my husband and 
myself determined on having her married, and 
thereby put a speedy end to such a disagreeable 
condition of things. Accordingly, while yet in her 
sixteenth year, we managed to bring about her 
union with a young nobleman of splendid promise, 
a member of a distinguished family and heir to an 
immense estate. Agnes accepted his proposal with 
deep reluctance, and in obedience to the wishes of 
her parents. The marriage took place amid .the 
greatest rejoicing. 

‘‘ Though my daughter had adopted an earthly 
vocation, yet her thoughts were not of earth, and 
the presentiments of unhappiness and misfortune 
she had so vividly felt were but too truly verified. 
During the first year of her married life her path 
was a path of roses. But, like the rose, her happi- 
ness was brief and evanescent. Through some in- 
explicable influence her husband, who theretofore 
had been a paragon of piety and morality, flung 
himself suddenly into the whirlpool of politics,^ al- 
lied himself with the most mad-cap radicals, and 
passed the greater part of his time in liberal club- 
rooms and gambling saloons. Ere long he gave 
himself up to intemperance and dissipation, and 
became a confirmed debauchee. His inheritance was. 
soon squandered, and the greater portion of my 
daughter’s dower was disposed of in a similar way. 


# 

3i8 The Htintcr of the Alps, 

I will not speak to you of the wrongs and ill-treat- 
ment that the unhappy creature was compelled to 
endure at the hands of her husband for a period of 
twenty-six months. The heartless wretch rendered 
her life an unbroken martyrdom. Finally, falling 
in with an equestrian performer, he abandoned his 
wife and child. After having left the remainder 
of his fortune to gamblers and usurers he proceeded 
with his new-found companion to Dresden, thence 
to Paris, and finally to London.” 

Heaven bless us ! how boundless are the ex- 
cesses of human perversity. Happy are those who 
fly from the temptations of this wicked world.” 

Such is the wretched lot of my beloved daughter, 
who has not as yet attained her twenty-first year.” 

But where does she reside at present ? ” 

With one of her aunts in the country ; for she 
shrinks from appearing in the society which she 
was wont formerly to frequent. She lives the life 
of a recluse, and never leaves her residence save to 
visit the parish church. I am now going to Ales- 
sandria, and to-morrow will proceed thence to see 
her, and remain with her a few days. Poor crea- 
ture ! so resigned is she to the divine will, so mild- 
ly does she bear hei* burden of sorrow and humi- 
liation, that neither complaint nor reproach is ever 
heard to escape her lips. She still loves with a 
holy love her unworthy husband, and prays for him 
with unceasing fervor. The peace and heavenly 
serenity that surround that pure soul fill my heart 
with comfort and consolation. But I foresee that 
her suffering will not be of long duration. The 


The Huìiter of the Alps. 319 

recent death of her little hoy, after five montljs of 
intense suffering, caused her a shock from the ef- 
fects of which I fear she never will recover. I 
expect, I am prepared, to see her pass away before 
my eyes from this wretched world. Oh ! had I 
but left her within the holy precincts of the Sacred 
Heart I were not so grief -stricken to-day.’’ 

‘‘ Madame, God in his inscrutable wisdom draws 
good out of evil.” 

Yes, countess, that is perfectly true ; still I 
cannot support the thought of having been the au- 
thor of the evil that alBdicts that innocent and an- 
gelic creature. A terrible lesson indeed, an un- 
speakable torment to a mother’s heart.”' 

The whistle of the locomotive, announcing their 
arrival, brought this sad dialogue to an abrupt 
conclusion. 

Madame Clotilda took leave, in the most cordial 
terms, of the countess and Natalie, who continued 
their journey to Genoa. 

Agnes shortly after breathed her last, dying a 
peaceful and edifying death, and Heaven vouch- 
safed her the conversion of her husband. 

The human heart, when ruled by strong emo- 
tions, makes use of every external impression to 
nourish and excite it all the more. Leonie, who 
for some time back had been perpetually revolving 
in her mind the causes which led to the loss of her 
son, now discovered in the mournful story of 
Agnes new aliment for the grief that preyed on 
her. She responded to all Natalie’s advances only 
in a fitful, jietulant way, and, wrapped up in the 


320 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


Bolitiulo of her own thoughts, observed unbroken 
silence. Her mind was wandering over the slopes 
of San Fermo, where she sought in imagination 
the mangled corpse of her beloved boy among the 
heaps of slain. This recent engagement caused 
her the most intense perplexity. She could not 
reconcile herself to the idea of returning home in 
such a terrible state of uncertainty. On arriving 
at Genoa she repented bitterly of having consented 
to leave Turin, and already began to devise means 
to reach the Lombard frontier once more, and an- 
ticipate Count James in reaching Como. In this 
state of incertitude she entered the city and drove 
to a hotel. 

Toward evening Florence entered the countess’ 
apartments to receive instructions for the hour of 
departure on the following day. He found both 
mother and daughter deeply engaged in reading 
the news. The countenances of both were so 
pallid and fear-stricken that one could not behold 
them but with sentiments of commiseration and 
pain. The journal which they were so eagerly pe- 
rusing contained an account of the recent attack 
of Gaveno, which ended disastrously for the Gari- 
haldians, and gave the news of the various 
skirmishes that had occurred in the vicinity of 
Lake Maggiore. This news was as daggers to the 
hearts of Leonie and her daughter. 

‘‘ To-morrow to Alessandria, then to Novare,” 
impetuously answered Hatalie, as Florence asked 
the hour of departure. 

“How ? What do you mean ? Alessandria ? 


The Hunter of the Alps, 321 

We have just come from it. That would be going 
back again.” 

Exactly. Mother wishes to return.” 

Florence changed all the colors of the rainbow ; 
then, looking at Natalie with a half-pitiable smile, 
gravely asked : 

Madame, the i)ostman is waiting below ; he 
wishes to know at what hour he shall call for the 
baggage.” 

The ‘countess looked at Florence for an in- 
stant, and then slowly replied : ‘‘I have decided to 
start again by the night-train.” 

In what direction ? ” anxiously demanded the 
steward. 

To Alessandria. I guess you must be getting 
deaf,” peevishly cried Natalie. 

The countess nodded her head in assent. Flo- 
rence could no longer contain himself. Bursting 
into a fit of passion, he threatened the terrible 
things that the count would and would not do, 
and asserted that he had expressly forbidden him- 
self to second the caprice of that foolish young 
girl ; that she was to give no instructions in the 
matter; that the orders already received put an 
end to the affair. lie brought in addition so many 
arguments to bear on the question, and continued 
his whinings and grumblings in such’ an intempe- 
rate way, that the countess, unable to listen to 
him longer, dryly retorted : 

‘‘ Enough said already. I have no orders to give 
till to-morrow morning. Come to my apartments 
at six o’clock, and yon shall know my wishes,” 



CHAPTER XL. 

CELSUS. 

dear youn" fellow, you greatly need rest 
and relaxation. Your continued anxiety and 
trouble of mind will ere long begin to tell on your 
health. I know full well that you are endowed 
with a tender heart, a susceptible temperament, 
a fervid imagination, and that you love one 
another like two brothers. But then you must 
be reasonable and moderate. Too much of any- 
thing is bad. A truce to trouble, then. Consider 
that your friend will be happy in Paradise, and 
that Providence, taking good out of evil, has or- 
dained all this in order to relieve you from a con- 
dition for which you were never designed. For, in 
truth, what were you in Caribaldi’s rabble legion ? 
A rose amid thorns ; a fresh- water fish in mid- 
^ ocean. Cast all your anxiety aside, then, and 
come- with me and pass an hour of relaxation 
among my delicious flowers. I will show you an 
immense collection of the rarest and most lovely 
plants. They are my greatest delight ; I am pas- 
sionately fond of them. You, too, I doubt not, are 
fond of flowers ; are you not ? ” 

323 


The Hunter of the Alps. yi'^ 

The individual who thus addressed our Chasseur 
of the Alps on a lovely morning in June at the 
door of an exquisite country residence was a man 
of more than middle age, lank, attenuated, awk- 
ward in gait, with sun-embrowned face and strong- 
ly-marked features ; his huge mustachios com- 
pletely hid his mouth from view ; his iron-gray 
hair hung down straight on his shoulders ; and his 
voice was deep and sonorous. One would have 
imagined him at the first sight a minstrel of the 
days of the Bound Table, or a painter of the olden 
Flemish school. 

Julian, whom he addressed, -was seated on a 
marble bench, his elbow resting on a half-column 
which supported a vase of Eastern porphyry filled 
with pale hortensias. His left hand was lying on a 
silken handkerchief spread on his knee. He pre- 
sented as sad and dejected a picture as one of those 
genii carved by Canova on the funereal urn of a 
youthful bride. He no longer wore his ragged and 
dirty Garibaldian uniform, but a handsome suit of 
brown tweed ; a pale, sky-blue cravat was around 
his neck, and his precious gold chain hung over 
his waistcoat. A pert straw hat, bound with a 
black ribbon, was dashed carelessly on his head. 

Yes,” he answered to the question of his inter- 
locutor, love flowers very much, and occupied 
myself not a little with them when at home. But, 
my dear Celsus, a flower has been the cause of all 
my misfortunes. They engage my attention but 
little now.” 

Why, do not ever let me hear you speak like 


324 


The Ihinter of the Alps. 


that again. Flowers no longer engage your atten- 
tion ! Come along with me, now, and see how 
quickly I will dissipate that illusion.^’ 

‘‘Very well,” answered Julian, as he rose from 
his seat with nonchalance and languidly took hold 
of his conductor’s arm. “ But I can accompany 
you for a few moments only, for I dare not remain 
away from him long.” 

“ Never mind that. If the sight of my in- 
comparable treasures do not cause your troubled 
thoughts to vanish I am much mistaken. Flowers, 
my dear fellow, are, after animated nature, the 
loveliest objects that can meet the eye. They are 
the pearls of the earth, the balm of the air, the 
mirror of light, the charm of the eye, the smile 
and caress of innocent nature. We are exhilarated 
by their freshness, refreshed by their fragrance, 
pleased by their variety, charmed by their beauty, 
and ravaged by their incomparable delicacy. Oh ! 
what beauly, perfume, splendor.” 

They descended a narrow, winding path hedged 
with laurels, and entered a small garden, amphi- 
theatrical in form, admirably exposed to the heat 
and light, and laid out with perfect art and taste. 
It contained a gay and luxuriant collection of 
flowers of almost every known species. Within the 
base of the semicircle was the orangery, and a 
large green-house containing all the most delicate 
plants of Asia and tropical America. Four foun- 
tains supplied as many large basins where myriads 
of little fishes darted to and fro like rays of glis- 
tening amber j while countless water-jets cooled the 


The Hunter of the Alps. 325 

air and lent an indescribable charm to the scene. 
Several rows of benches, covered with vases con- 
taining the choicest and rarest flowers, engaged the 
eye, forming an exquisite contrast to the spreading 
sward. 

‘‘ Behold that rapturous sight,” exclaimed Cel- 
sus, with a joyous emphasis that tossed his gray 
locks like a blast of wind, after having poured out 
an overwhelming torrent of rhapsody descriptive of 
almost every plant and flower in the universe. 
“ This is my little earthly paradise, the joy, the 
happiness of my life. Here you may find all the 
most perfect and precious products of every land 
and clime. The rarest and most valuable of Na- 
ture’s gifts meet the eye on every side.” 

Yes, this is all very fine indeed,” replied Ju- 
lian, who had begun to grow impatient. Do not 
trouble yourself any more, my dear sir ; let us fol- 
low this narrow pathway through, and we can see 
everything as we pass.” 

Pshaw ! will you not delay a moment and ad- 
mire this thorny cactus, and that scarlet Virginian 
jasmine, and this collection of aloes ?” 

“I am in a hurry, sir, and cannot wait a mo- 
ment longer,” interrupted Julian, as he moved 
slowly on. 

Oh ! just a few minutes more. Pass this way ; 
you will be enraptured over my wondrous collec- 
tion of lilies. Linnaeus has well remarked that the 
lily is the queen of flowers. I will now point out 
the various kinds to you, and explain in detail all 
their — ” 


326 


The Huiitcr of the Alps, 


À thousand thanks, my dear sir, for your kind- 
ness,” broke in Julian, as he disengaged himself 
from his arm. I am sorry indeed, but I must re- 
turn to the house • I cannot stay any longer with- 
out seeing him.” 

Just one glance at this mass of roses, which are, 
perhaps, the finest specimens to be found in Italy,” 
resumed Celsus, as he struggled to retain his im- 
patient victim. ‘‘Just at the end of this walk 
here. Behold that magnificent collection I I have 
eighty-four dijfferent specimens, which I shall show 
you and point out their distinctions. The modest 
rose, the fairest of flowers, the symbol of celestial 
beauty ! Our own immortal Dante could find no 
more appropriate image to — ” 

“ For Heaven’s sake let me go ; you have me 
bored to death,” cried Julian, now actually writh- 
ing with impatience. 

“ And those Bengalese flowers — sur-ely you must 
admire them.” 

“Yes, but I am not in the mood for admiring 
anything just at this moment. You will, there- 
fore, confer a lasting favor on me by letting me 
withdraw for the lime being.” 

“ But do not go without plucking a few of these 
lovely camelias * they are so delicate, so exquisitely 
beautiful ! ” 

“ Ho, no, I do not wish having anything more to 
do with camelias. I regard them with the most 
ineflable detestation. They have been the cause of 
all my misfortune ; I cannot bear to hear them 
mentioned.” 


The Hunter of the Alps, 327 

W«ll, then, we shall leave, but I beg to assure 
you that you are not endowed with that purity of 
taste with wliich I credited you; What 1 not to Ado 
delighted at sight of a parterre that foreigners, 
English, Germans, French, and even Americans, 
consider themselves fortunate at being allowed to 
visit ? I reallyam greatly amazed at your leaving 
so abruptly ; there is such a multitude of interest- 
ing objects that I have yet to ^how you.” 

“ At some other time. For the present accept 
my most cordial acknowledgments,” replied Julian, 
as he hastened toward the house with hurried step. 

Poor J ulian ! what an agony he had to suffer at 
the hands of this unspeakable idiot. He felt like 
a bird let loose to skies and air on escaping from 
the clutches of this sublimated bore. 

But where are we ? the reader may well ask. 
Who is this garden parrot with whom we have been 
so long engaged ? How did our Chasseur fall into 
his talons ? What has become of poor Maso ? Is 
he living or dead ? 

These questions we shall answer in detail. 




CHAPTER XLL 
adkian’s home. 

The country residence to 'which Julian came 
with his invalid friend on the evening of the 27th 
of May was situate on the estates of a certain Mr. 

Adrian , a wealthy gentleman who lived on 

the outskirts of a charming little villa. Though a 
brother of Oelsus, the two men were^so different in 
manner and disposition that the observer would al- 
most imagine the one to have been born in Italy, 
the other at the antipodes. Both, however, were 
natives of an opulent and populous city of Lower 
Lombardy, Oelsus was one of those droll and sin- 
gular characters that we occasionally meet with in 
life, and the cause of whose being can scarce bo 
better explained than by the venerable expression 
that ‘Mt takes every kind to make a world.” He 
was possessed of a prodigious memory, a powerful 
imagination, but had not the faintest shadow of 
judgment. In his youth he was passionately ad- 
dicted to poetry, and he came very near being an 
improvisatore of the first order. But, growing 
weary of the lyre, he exchanged it for the whip and 
became a horse-tamer. The loss of the greater 
portion of his property, a pair of broken arms, and 
328 



The Hunter of the Alps, 329 

a dislocated ankle were the sole results and reward 
of his new profession. Then he turned his ideas 
to the canine race — he would he a dog- trainer. 
For three years his whole attention was engrossed 
with blood-hounds, fleet-hounds, setters, terriers, 
spaniels, harriers, and the whole barking tribe. 
But in this new line he succeeded no better ; so, 
pitching the dogs to the deuce and elevating his 
thoughts to a more ennobling sphere, he became a 
botanical fool and gave his entire attention to the 
culture of rare plants and flowers. Apart from his 
floral mania, Celsns was a gentle soul, of a tract- 
able disposition, pious, and devoted. A bachelor, 
he lived with his brother in the best of good-fel- 
lowship. • He never mixed in politics, and if he 
ever mentioned such matters, it was but to change 
in a moment to his favorite subject. 

Adrian, his elder brother, who had already 
passed his sixtieth year, was of a staid, methodical, 
afid deliberate character, always acting in accord- 
ance with rule and line, weight and measure. Of 
faults he had very few, if, indeed, any; but 
neither were his praiseworthy qualities in any wise 
remarkable. He was endowed with a little judg- 
ment, some sagacity, imagination, attraction, and 
acquired knowledge. Neither was he by any 
means devoid of the moral qualities. One thing 
alone he completely lacked— namely, the quality 
of nobility. Lands and money he had in abun- 
dance, but still he was neither count, marquis, nor 
baron. He had not the faintest title of nobility 
attaching to him. This preyed on his mind deep- 


330 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


ly. From the day of his marriage he exercisod 
every means calculated to introduce him into the 
ranks of the nobility. At first a chevalier’s cross 
was the height of his ambition. He was not, as 
may be observed, then, of a very vaulting ambition ; 
for who in our day is not a chevalier, or may not 
hope to be one ? But, as he was an Austrian sub- 
ject, the coveted ribbon that was to adorn his 
breast could only come from Vienna. 

Among the other weaknesses with which he was 
afflicted, Adrian was somewhat vain, a lit- 

tle addicted to pride, was given occasionally to 
boasting, and possessed a failing common enough 
in our own times — he was an abject slave of human 
respect in all things political. At bottom he was 
not the foe of Austrian rule in Lombardy, nor did 
he by any means think that in becoming a Pied- 
montese his lands would be converted into an El 
Dorado. But the relentless war waged in secret by 
the liberals against all those whom they dubbed 
Austrophiles — a war of anonymous letters and pub- 
lications, sarcasms, slanders, and threats — ^filled him 
with ineffable dread. Swimming beneath the sur- 
face of the water, and lacking sufficient courage to 
assert his political proclivities till the general up- 
rising of 1848, he was never able to acquire the 
gewgaw which was the object of all his ambition. 

This same year witnessed the appearance of 
Charles Albert’s falling star, which rose again on 
the Ticino. Adrian at length discerned a ray of 
hope. He became its humblest satellite, following 
it with the meanest sycophancy. He was convinced 


331 


The Hunter of the Alps, 

that the propitious influence of this star, so court- 
ed and hepraised on every side, would bestow on 
him at least the brilliant cross of Saint Mau- 
rice-and-Lazarus. But, alas ! the star was sud- 
denly extinguished at Custoza and Novare, and 
Adrian’s hopes were again dashed. 

To escape the raillery of the multitude he now 
affected liberal opinions, became an ardent par- 
tisan of the banner of Savoy, and, at the first out- 
break between the Austrians and Franco-Sar- 
dinians, he entered into a close correspondence with 
the committees, subscribed large sums of money 
for the equipment of volunteers, and lost no oppor- 
tunity to incite the people in favor of Garibaldi. 

Nevertheless, this country squireen was not de- 
void of a certain nobility of soul, and he was ever 
distinguished for his boundless charity toward the 
poor and his gentleness and suavity of manner. 

At early dawn, on May 28, Adrian set out for 
Cavalasca in his carriage, for the purpose of learn- 
ing the news of the events that had occurred the 
previous evening in that locality. Luckily he had 
occasion to stop for a few moments at the door of 
Liberaia’s cabin, where our two young friends had 
obtained shelter. Having learned from the old 
lady that she had beneath her roof two Gari- 
baldians, one of whom was seriously wounded, he 
immediately hastened to their presence, and be- 
stowed on Julian so many marks of kindness and 
sympathy that the latter took the liberty of asking 
him to bring to his dying friend the parish priest 
and. doctor at the earliest possible moment. 


332 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


Maso, who happily had not as yet breathed his 
last, had fallen into a state of lethargic uncon- 
sciousness. In this wretched hovel it was impos- 
sible for him to obtain the aid and attendance ne- 
cessary for his recovery. The kind old lady. Libe- 
rata, left no means at her disposal untried, but 
these were few and slender. Adrian observed at a 
glance that the poor youth could not survive much 
longer if left thus neglected and deprived of medi- 
cal assistance. He accordingly ordered his coach- 
man to proceed home in all haste, and return with 
a light wagon and mattress for the removal of the 
wounded soldier. In less than an hour the servant 
was back. Maso was placed in the carriage, and in 
a few moments was on his way to Adrian’s beauti- 
ful country seat — a veritable little palace. 

Madame Clelia, his good wife, was horrified at 
sight of the two guests, one of them on the verge 
of death, who had been so unexpectedly presented 
to her. But pity succeeding to surprise, she finally 
consented to receive them, on the condition, how- 
ever, that they should occupy a room on the ground 
floor, usually assigned to the servants. While the 
room referred to was being put in order, Madame 
Clclia observed in the conduct and carriage of 
Julian such marked politeness and high-bred cour- 
tesy that she regretted having given such hasty 
and ill-considered instructions. Addressing Julian, 
she asked with eager curiosity whence they had 
come, and made repeated enquiries regarding their 
friends and families. Julian, while carefully con- 
cealing his real name, told her unhesitatingly a por- 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


333 


tion of their adventures, and the high social posi- 
tion occupied by their parents. Whereupon the 
lady immediately gave orders that they should 
occupy the best and most commodious apartment 
in the house. 

Adrian, meantime, had despatched a messenger 
for the doctor, and, having requested Julian to 
take off his military cloak, ordered a servant 
to hasten to a neighboring village and purchase a 
civilian suit for Julian, that he might the more 
easily escape the observation of the Austrians, who 
scoured the entire neighborhood. 

The doctor, after a prolonged and careful exami- 
nation of the patient, and after hearing a detailed 
account of his sickness from Julian, declared that 
Maso, in addition to his wound, was suffering from 
a violent attack of fever, occasioned by the fatigue 
of the march and constant exposure to the fierce 
heat and drenching rains. He ordered the neces- 
sary prescriptions, and for seven or eight days en- 
tertained but slender hopes of his patient’s re- 
covery. 

The anxiety and suffering of Julian during this 
trying period may be imagined rather than de- 
scribed. He scarce ever quitted his comrade’s bed- 
side. 

Madame Clelia, who watched over the patient 
with motherly tenderness, was struck even more 
than her husband by this remarkable attachment 
of Julian to his comrade. In spite of the fact that 
she studiously refrained from prying into their 
business, she nevertheless suspected that they were 


334 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


more than simple soldier comrades ; that they 
were, indeed, relatives, or bound together by no 
ordinary ties of friendship. The more she contem- 
plated them the more their condition excited her 
curiosity and commiseration. 

This lady, who had already entered the autumn 
of life, and who preserved but the vestige of long- 
vanished beauty, had retained such a keen deli- 
cacy of sentiment, such a dignified and graceful 
manner, and such a melancholy sweetness usually 
pervaded her countenance, that Julian could not 
look at her for an instant without being painfully 
reminded of his mother. . And, more singular still, 
Madame Clelia, after the lapse of a few days, could 
not gaze at Julian for a passing moment without 
being visibly moved. One would have imagined 
that this amiable but misguided youth recalled to 
her memory another who had been the object of 
her tenderest affection and most poignant sorrow. 

“ And this handsome youth is really a Tus- 
can *? ” she asked one day while standing at Maso’s 
bedside. ^‘From his auburn hair and extremely 
fair complexion I would have taken him for a Ger- 
man.” 

“Yes, madame,” answered Julian, “he is a 
Tuscan ; but I presume he greatly resembles liis 
mother, who is a Scottish lady.” 

“You presume, you say? but you ought to be 
certain. Arc you not acquainted with his family ?” 

“ Not at all ; I know but him.” 

“But you must have known him for a long 
time ?” 


The Hunter of the Alps, 335 

Not quite two months.” 

How comes it, then, that you are so deeply at- 
tached to him ? Were he your brother you could 
not be more devoted to him.” 

Ah ! but if you only hnew his many sterling 
qualities,” cried Julian with enthusiasm. 

Poor boy ! But what in the world induced 
lym to become a volunteer, and why have you, 
too, joined the army ? Perhaps your parents 
forced you to enlist ? ” 

Our parents forced us to enlist ! ” exclaimed 
Julian in blank amazement. 

And why not ? Are there not multitudes of 
fathers senseless enough to do so ? Too well, in- 
deed, I have known it. And you, who appear so 
good, so kind, so accomplished, how have you 
been able to descend to the disgraceful level of a 
Garibaldian ? Have you no friends ?” 

My father is dead,” answered Julian with ill- 
disguised embarrassment, and I have no brothers. 
Maso here has three, and his father is still living,” 
lie continued, and then adroitly tried to turn the 
topic of conversation. 

But your mother — what of her ?” 

Julian blushed deeply, but made no replj. 

Ah 1 cruel child,” she exclaimed in a burst of 
virtuous indignation, ‘^you did not shrink from 
abandoning your widowed mother to become a sol- 
dier. May Heaven forgive you ! ” 

Julian pretended not to have heard her bitter 
reproach, and forthwith left the room on the pre- 
text of speaking to Adrian. He did not open his 


336 The Hunter of the Alps, 

lips on the subject again, and even when Clelia oc- 
casionally alluded thereto he maintained unbroken 
silence. 

In every other wise so polite, discreet, reserved, 
and agreeable was he that he had become a favorite 
with all the members of the family. 

The morning Celsus had succeeded in wresting 
Julian from his distressing solitude was the most 
critical during the whole course of Maso’s illness. 
The previous night he had passed in a terrible de- 
lirium. Madame Clelia watched over him with 
unwearying solicitude, and Julian could not be in- 
duced to leave his bedside for a moment. At an 
early hour in the morning Julian, overcome with 
fatigue and racked with anxiety, had gone out to 
breathe the pure atmosphere and snatch a mo- 
ment’s relaxation. The doctor no longer enter- 
tained the slightest hope of Maso’s recovery, and 
was doubtful if he could survive till the following 
day. Adrian, who had contracted a sincere affec- 
tion for Julian, and whose sympathies were deeply 
touched at his friend’s hapless condition, had left 
home that morning on some important business, 
as he shrank from witnessing such a melancholy 
death-bed scene. Never before had Julian en- 
dured such mental torture. The future to him 
now appeared black and cruel as the grave. The 
reader, therefore, will not be surprised at the 
scant courtesy shown the unfortunate florist. 



CHAPTER XLIL 

A TALK OK POLITICS. 

Ok entering Maso’s room Julian found the priest 
and doctor within. They contemplated, the pa- 
tient compassionately, while the kind Clelia or- 
dered a servant to bring some fresh clothing and 
leave them in the adjoining room. 

What news was there ? The doctor scarce knew. 
He still regarded the patient, who had grown 
much calmer, with anxiety. When asked by the 
priest to give his opinion he simply shrugged his 
shoulders and answered : Yes, he is somewhat 
better ; but who knows ?” Then, turning towards 
Julian, added : Do not be discouraged ; the ex- 
cessive fever has decreased. He may recover 
shortly.” 

At this juncture Madame Clelia entered the 
room to attend to the wants of the patient. 

‘‘We may as well retire,” observed the doctor. 
“ I see no imminent danger. Madame Clelia will 
take care of the patient. She is a veritable Sister 
of Charity. She surely missed her vocation.” 

“Alas ! doctor,” she sadly replied, “the kind- 
ness I bestow on this poor suffering youth I was 
unable to show to my Adolphus. He had no mo- 
337 


338 The Hunter of the Alps. 

ther near to minister to him in the hour of his 
agony.” 

She turned with tearful look towards Julian, 
who was standing by Maso’s bed, and proceeded 
with the utmost attention to w^ait on the patient 
as the others quitted the room and descended on 
the terrace, whence a magnificent landscape opened 
on the view. 

Seated on benches outside, the priest and doctor 
endeavored to console Julian and restore him to his 
former hope, when Adrian suddenly appeared in a 
state of great excitement. He asked in an anxious 
and nervous manner regarding Maso’s condition, 
and, learning that he was somewhat better, said : 

‘‘By Jove ! we are lucky this time. We came 
within an ace of being ruined.” 

“Why ? What is the matter ? ” 

“ The matter is that a tremendous cannonade is 
going on on the Buffalora side of the Ticino. Ho 
one knows all the details as yet, but it certainly is a 
pitched battle. I have just met a courier from our 
ranks bearing secret orders, who informed me that 
a telegram had been received announcing that the 
cannonade from the Yercellina gate to Milan was 
heard, and that a whole Austrian corps started yes- 
terday by rail to the assistance of Marshal Giulay.” 

“Impossible! At Buffalora?” exclaimed the 
doctor, in great surprise. “But Giulay is at this 
iiioinent between Pavia and Placentia. It is an 
unmitigated humbug !” 

“ Oh ! you are as incredulous as ever,” replied 
Adrian. “Do you imagine that the Milanese are 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


339 


deaf, or do you think that I have grown blind ? 
The despatch is dated Milan. I assure you that I 
was never more anxious in my life. The fate of 
Lombardy is being decided down there at this very 
moment.” 

He rose from his seat and walked up and down 
the terrace in a state of great excitement, while the 
three spectators looked on in mute astonishment, 
Julian blushed slightly and his eyes scintillated for 
some reason known only to himself. 

The doctor was an attenuated little man of about 
fifty years, with full, round countenance, a keen 
though somewhat subdued look, and an agreeable 
and entertaining address. He belonged to no 
party, but was willing to assist any provided he 
could turn it to account. A liberal with liberals, 
a demagogue with demagogues, an Austrian with 
Austrians, if he had few friends he had no ene- 
mies, and his profession, on the whole, was a pay- 
ing one. 

Don Firmin, on the contrary, was a priest whose 
mind was exclusively occupied in administrating 
the affairs of his parish, and who, when public 
affairs were brought into, conversation, invariably 
declared that he was on the side of justice and 
right ; that he had other matters to engage his atten- 
tion ; that he did not want to be mentioned at all in 
matters of such grave importance; that, in short, he 
was, as regarded party, colorless as water from the 
spring. To his mind everything was right and 
just, provided neither the Pope, nor the cause of 
religion, nor the Church were offended. It is, 


340 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


therefore, conspicuously evident that this good and 
simple priest did not belong to the school of cer- 
tain archpriests or monsignors of Lombardy who 
were prouder to bear a tricolor cockade on their 
breast than a tonsure on their crown ; who gloried 
openly in being more warmly devoted to the Italy of 
Piedmont than to the Yicar of Jesus Christ ; who, 
in short, intone, beneath the purple, the ^‘Te Deum” 
before the altar, in thanks to God that thieves and 
filibusters had at length succeeded in wresting 
the most precious gems from St. Peter’s tiara and 
devastating his patrimony. 

Our doctor, as will be seen, found himself plac- 
ed between a neutral — the priest — and a red-hot 
belligerent — Adrian. There was no doubt but that 
Julian, too, was an out-and-out stickler for young 
Italy, a full-fledged Garibaldian. lie therefore 
sought a hey which he could strike without any 
fear of discord. 

It seems to me, my dear Adrian,” he observed, 

that you give way to too much fear. The Aus- 
trians have lost their compass ; you will see that 
ere long they will grow beautifully less.” 

‘‘I tell you that things are not going on as you 
imagine. If the allied armies crush General Gari- 
baldi it'is all over with us. That admits of no doubt. 
Garibaldi has but a handful of men ; he cannot 
hope to resist the enemy ; he but invites disaster. 
These gentlemen of Turin seem to have lost their 
heads. Garibaldi arrives at Varese, occupies it, pro- 
cb^ims Victor Emmanuel king, and repels the attack 
of General Hurban. Ho squats and vegetates on 


341 


The Hiirtfer of the Alps. 

tlio spot for a time, and then marches off to Como 
with airy grace. Hurban recaptures Varese, and 
makes the citizens pay dearly for their toast. On 
the evening of the 27 th Garibaldi repels a band of 
Hungarians from San Fermo, forces the passage of 
Borgo vico, enters Como, from which the Austrians 
had retired several miles, promulgates the royal 
government, and twenty-four hours, afterward dis- 
appears and proceeds to attack a fortress on the 
lake, defended by artillery from the lake and from 
the shore. And he has not a single piece of artil- 
lery himself. Is not such an enterprise the most 
unmitigated folly ? He, as is naturally to be ex- 
pected, has just been beaten with immense loss, and 
is bottled up near Varese by a force of ten thou- 
sand Austrians. Meantime, all those districts which 
at his instigation, and trusting in his strength, 
have flung out the banner of Piedmont are aban- 
doned to the mercy of the enemy. And where is 
Garibaldi ? is asked on every side. Where has he 
sneaked off to ? ” 

‘^He is at Como,” triumphantly answered the 
doctor. 

Yes, he has come back there ; but the Austri- 
ans have surrounded him, and, to secure his assist- 
ance to that city in the hour of its peril, do you 
know who has been despatched to him ? A courier 
in petticoats — a lady in — ” 

‘‘ We know all that, Mr. Adrian ; it is the young 
Marchioness Eaimondi de Fino, a fantastic and 
singular being, if there ever was one in this world. 
She overtook him at Robarello, and solicited his 


342 


The Hunter of the Alps* 


assistance. The hero hastened at once to the aid 
of the people of Como.” 

I observe that you know as much about it as 
I do.” 

Ay, ay,” answered the doctor as he stroked his 
long beard ; we doctors know a great deal — 
we see so much of the world, you know. I might 
even add that that ambassadress has not been 
chosen at random. It has been hinted that she is 
the betrothed of Garibaldi.” 

What nonsense ! ” 

We’ll see. If it be a rose, it will bloom.” * 

But to return to our subject. I feel a lively 
apprehension,” observed Adrian as he seated him- 
self full in front of Don Firmili. All depends on 
this battle. I am standing on thorns till I know 
all the details.” 

But you know the French are terrible soldiers,” 
replied Don Firmin, ‘^and, though I am not in the 
habit of mixing myself up in such affairs, I may be 
permitted to observe that the Austrians will be 
egregiously mistaken if they think they are going 
to have a complete walk-over.” 

And the Italians,” added the doctor, are they 
not worthy to combat side by side with the bravest 
sons of France ? Garibaldi’s volunteers proved it 
during the past few days. Our soldier friend here 
can bear testimony to that. Pars magna fuitP 

* The rose has bloomed. In the month of January, 1860, all 
the journals announced the regular marriage of M. Garibaldi 
to this young lady. But rumor assured us that the marriage 
was not very happy. The truth is, the scribes— the jnen who 
admired every hair in the old filibuster’s head^rbave kept 
prudently sQent with respect to the young marchfone.^. 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


343 


On hearing these words Julian, who was ab- 
sorbed in his melancholy and moody thoughts, and 
paying scant attention to the topic under discus- 
sion, awoke for a moment from his reverie, smiled 
sadly, and, dropping his . eyes to the ground, re- 
lapsed into his state of immobility and taciturnity. 

‘‘ Speak rather of the heroes of Palestro,” cried 
Adrian. ‘‘ Yes, they showed themselves the true 
rivals of the victors of the Alma and Sebastopol.'’’ 

Yes, and meantime the French will still boast 
of their zouaves as being the real victors at the 
battle of Balestro ; that it was through their super- 
human courage and noble self-sacrifice that the 
day was won and that the Garibaldians were saved 
from annihilation.” 

‘‘All lies and imposition!” cried Adrian. “I 
grant you that the blood that flowed in torrents at 
Palestre, and which has wiped out the shame of 
Novara, was French blood. The Third Kegiment 
of zouaves took part in that engagement, it is true ; 
but do you mean to conclude from that that our 
heroic Victor could not of himself have crushed 
these Austrians, and even without the aid of your 
veterans from Africa ? ” 

“ Bah ! this is only the ordinary French boast- 
ing,” said the subtle doctor ; “ that is the spirit of 
their nation ; it spreads itself but in vaporing. . . . 
Grant them only the honor and the glory of the 
affair {fx gioire), and they are generous enough to 
leave you the whole ‘round of the roast to your- 
self.’ And, in fact, if they do leave even the 
‘roast’ and take only the honor of the affair for 


344 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


themselves, I have reason to think tliat Adrian 
won’t regret it.” 

And what roast-beef could they take from us ? ” 
‘^A little slice of Italy, ... if one could so 
style our islets, the Alps, and a seaport. . . . That 
is all I know about it.” 

'^The beautiful siren is the envy of the world. 
. . . Did France think to cross over the Alps from 
mere platonic love? . . . It’s barely possible, 
very uncertain ; and some of the journals think it 
very impossible. . . .’' 

“ That’s all talk ! ” shouted Adrian. 

So I think,” said Don Firmin. 

'^But,” replied the doctor, ‘Hhere is something 
more than mere talk in the history of the new 
map of Italy. So I heard at Milan from reliable 
sources.” 

What map do you mean ? ” 

'^I speak of a new map that a certain one who 
knows has shown in this city to another of high 
degree. On this map Italy is divided into three 
kingdoms: Eome with a small territory, circular 
in form, and marked out with a new pencil. They 
even go so far as to say that — ” 

Doctor ! Titian ! Don Firmin ! ” It was the 
hysterical voice of Clelia, who ran out on the ter- 
race bewildered and out of herself. 0 my God 1 
my God ! What is this ? ” 

They all leaped to their feet, frightened. 

‘‘This child, after soaking three night-shirts in 
perspiration, opened his eyes, threw his arms on 
my neck, and cried out: ‘Is this you, mother? 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


345 


Where is Julian ? Where am I I could not re- 
ply. He thought he embraced his mother; he 
clasped me so ... Oh ! then he fell back exhaust- 
ed, took my hands in his, and he remained in that 
way as if — ” 

Dead ! ” said the physician, as he hurried up 
the stairs. 

At this terrible word Julian blushed, raised his 
eyes to heaven, hesitated for an instant, and fell 
into the arms of Adrian. 




CHAPTER XL III. 

MAGENTA. 

Now/’ said Adrian, we decide right here the 
fate of Lombardy.” And he pointed with his finger 
to the great plain of Ticino. Nor was his state- 
ment far from the truth ! About the noonday of 
J une 4 . . . And thus they entered on a discussion, 
firing hot shot at each other, over the fate of Lom- 
bardy, that of half the Ausonian Peninsula, and 
even the crown of Victor Emmanuel. ... 

Some time since we bade God-speed to the 
Eranco-Sardinians when, after crossing the Sesia, 
takirg Palestre, they wheeled on their left to Tip- 
per Lombardy. So rapid was this manoeuvre that 
the vanguard under General Niel fell like a thun- 
der-clap on Novara, on the 1st of June, surprised 
Marshal Giulay, who with little delay decided to 
evacuate Lombardy, which he had invaded five 
weeks previous, and for no earthly reason. He col- 
lected and concentrated his troops for one terrible 
onslaught on the enemy, almost at the gates of Mi- 
lan, and on Lombard soil. Was this the act of an ex- 
perienced captain ? Ear from it ; no commander of 
any ability would allow a powerful foe to enter his 
34G 


347 


The Hunter of the Alps. 

lines when lie could attack him outside. With six 
good regiments Giulay could have cut off the pas- 
sage of the allies into the Novara country and stop- 
ped their passage of the river. . . . Every writer 
on this subject, even the French, admits this. In 
fact. General Zobel, as soon as he learned through 
his scouts of the arrival of General Niel in Novara, 
requested Giulay to order 40,000 men to attack the 
French. And there is very little doubt that this 
little deserted squadron of French, hemmed in on 
all sides by superior numbers, would have fallen an 
easy prey and have only courted annihilation by 
resistance. 

Had the Austrians only made this fortunate and 
quick manoeuvre from the defensive to the offen- 
sive, the French fnust have changed the course of 
their tactics. For they would not have dared to 
move further than Casale. And if Giulay had any 
doubts as to the certainty of victory for General Zo- 
bel, there was plenty of time for the marshal to rally 
his 150,000 men between Novara, take up a posi- 
tion on the border of the valley, seize the bridges 
and pontoons of the allies, and force them on the 
3d of June to retreat or engage in battle in an open 
country, when their troops were not in condition, 
and they could have no advantage from a good 
position. But what did the marshal do when he 
showed no disposition to dispute from the Pied- 
montese shore, even with his powerful army, the 
passage of the Franco-Sard ;nians to Milan, but lay 
quietly behind his Lombard trenches ? lie did 
nothing, absolutely nothing. And that our readers 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


348 

may understand Ilio incapacity, or rather neglect, 
of Giulay and the terrible consequences of it, we 
had better for a moment cast our eye over the 
ground where the armies met. There are two kings’ 
highways between Novara and Ticino, and each 
crosses a solid stone bridge — that of Gagliate, which 
leads directly to Turbigo, and that which leads to 
San Martino. 

The grand Naviglio Canal runs along the fron- 
tiers of Lombardy right opposite the second line 
of defence. It is the second rampart, behind which 
stand the towns, villages, and communes of the 
Milanese. 

The little commune of Turbigo is connected with 
the large town of Cuggiono by the roads of Eobec- 
chetto, Mai viglio, and Induno, which by large by- 
roads and consular roads communicate with the 
villages of Bemate, of Buffalora, Guzzafame, and all 
uniteat Magenta, a little town of 4,000 inhabitants, 
and the key of the passage to Milan. 

The bank of the river facing Trecate was wor- 
thy of our special attention. There are three ways 
to reach the Naviglio Canal after you cross the 
bridge of San Martino. The first is that on the 
left, of Buffalora. The second is in a direct line be- 
fore you, and is known as the road of Ponte Nuo- 
vo. And on your right is the third, that of the 
railroad, which leads you almost to Ponte Vecchio. 
These three routes cross the Naviglio on three 
brick bridges, and strike Magenta where the railroad 
is crossed by the Ponte Nuovo road. The little, 
town of Eobecco stands about four miles above 


349 


The Himter of ihe Alps. 

Ponte Vecchio. If we could imagine an ellipti- 
cal figure, whose greater axis extends from Cug- 
giono to Robccco, and whose lesser axis from the 
bridge of San Martino to Magenta, we shall 
have a sketch of the famous battle-ground. 

The ground near Naviglio is undulating and un- 
even, especially between Buffalora, Magenta, and 
Eobecco, where it slopes and is broken by ditches 
and natural trenches. The country is planted 
with grain and covered with vineyards and orch- 
ards. Dense clusters of mulberry and patches of 
shrubby underwood constantly impede the march 
of the troops and occasionally intercept their view 
of the road. 

From all this it is clear that Marshal Giulay 
ought to have watched the river closely from the 
bridge of San Martino as far as the bend of the 
stream at Turbigo, if he would cut off the allied 
forces on the left bank of the Ticino as they en- 
tered Novara. In fact, on June 1, when, at Mor- 
tara, ho was about to commence his retreat, he 
ordered Clam-Gall as, whom the train had just 
brought with his Tyrolese troops to Magenta, to 
guard these very points. Nor did he reflect that 
the district over which his pickets were to be scat- 
tered was extensive, with many defiles, and diffi- 
cult to be watched — nay, more, that there was im- 
mediate demand for a large reinforcement to carry 
out this order. No such reinforcement came. 
What was the consequence ? 

General MacMahon on the 2d June took posses- 
sion of Turbigo. On the next day he crossed with 


350 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


his entire detachment the Lombard and the Comal, 
took Kobecchetto, and drove this division along 
the roads of Buffalora and Magenta. General Clam- 
Gallas saw that his scanty number could not make 
a stand to cope with the French at the bridge of 
San Martino, so he tried to blow up the bridge in his 
retreat; but from some cause or other the mines 
were badly set ; the piles and arches were shaken 
and the bridge stood almost, unharmed from the 
shock. From this side it still stood a free and 
clear passage for the enemy. Thus through the 
neglect of the commander-in-chief Napoleon con- 
trolled both the right and left banks of the river, a 
most desirable advantage for which he must other- 
wise have paid dear. A vanguard of the French 
army, clearing a way for the regular forces, by a 
flank movement actually took up a position that 
overlooked the very heart of the Austrian camp. 
Napoleon got possession so easily of the fords of 
the Ticino that he resolved to cross over on the 4th 
inst. with the whole army and enter the Lombard 
capital. The order of battle was that the Fran co- 
Sardinians would march on the Austrian trenches 
between Naviglio and Magenta in two columns. 
One — that on the right — under the command of 
Napoleon, with his Grenadier Guards and the bat- 
talion of Marshal Canrobert, would invest the two 
bridges of Nuovo and Vecchio. The other — that 
on the left — under General MacMahon, composed 
of Sardinian troops under Generals Fanti and 
Durando, the light cavalry of the Imperial Guards, 
and MacMahon’s own division, were to make a 


The Hunter of the Alps, . 351 

■vigorous assault on Buffalora and Magenta. Gene- 
ral Niel commanded the rear-guard at Trica, with 
two Sardinian divisions’ besides his own, and was 
to act as a reserve corps. 

Marshal Giulay could not certainly be ignorant 
of the manoeuvres and progress of the enemy, yet 
did he continue to be calmly inactive in his head- 
quarters at Abbiategrasso, and he despatched from 
this place an order to Clam-Gall as to hold himself 
in readiness for an attack on the allied army. And 
now he made another and an almost incredible 
blunder. He kept back Generals Benedek, Stadi- 
on, and Schaffgotsche with their respective de- 
tachments, which they had thrown across the river 
Po that they might rally there, and so slackened 
the march of Zobel’s division that it had scarcely 
time to come up and take position in line of battle, 
and thus he could have amassed and opposed 100,- 
000 bayonets to 80,000 under Napoleon. 

The disposition of the Austrian forces was sim- 
ply this : the right wing, under Clam-Gallas, occu- 
pied Buffalora, Bernate, and the surrounding 
farms. The left wing was commanded by Lich- 
tenstien, and reached from Ponte Vecchio to Ro- 
becco ; and the centre, under Reischach and Lilia, 
with four other brigades, commanded the Naviglio 
and Ponte Nuovo. The Schwartzenberg troops 
arrived to hand quite unexpectedly and made the 
Austrian -forces equal, at least in numbers, to the 
army of the allies. And now, with all the blun- 
ders we have alluded to, had Marshal Giulay only 
been on the scene at an early hour of the morning, 


352 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


history might now have on record a different tale 
of that day’s battle ; but he came at three o’clock 
p.3r., and then, instead of promptly and vigorously 
throwing his whole force into action, he held back . 
the half in reserve.* 


* The Prussian Rustow is severe in his censure of the Aus- 
trians, in his volume, the “ Italian Campaign in 1859 ” He 
examines and shows by clear proofs the nature of this battle, 
and that three times before sundown the forces of the bellige- 
rents were almost equal in numbers. He calculates there wer^ 
from 60,000 to 60,000 men, but assumes the mean number of 
65,000 on either side. “ Now,” he says, “ the incalculable differ- 
ence was in this ; the French attacked an enemy that in num- 
bers and forces was in consolidated mass, while tho Austrians 
in only one position, and to receive the attack, concentrated 
at least 10,000 men (the troops of Generals Clam, Lichten- 
stein, and Reischach), and only deployed the divisions of 
Schwartzenberg and Lilia— that is, 25,000 men— in the attack.” 




CHAPTER XLIV. 

THE BATTLE. 

The Austrian batteries at Ponte Nuovo opened 
fire on the company of grenadiers, under General 
Wimpffen, of the Imperial Guard, between the 
hours of nine and ten o’clock a.m. He had impru- 
dently come up alone to the attack. And now an 
irregular fusillade w^as begun and kept up along 
the line, now in one place, now in another, and 
with little advantage. General Regnault then ar- 
rived with the Cler Brigade and drew off Wim- 
pffen to support the position of MacMahon beyond 
the Naviglio, whence the distant thunder from the 
batteries between Turbigo and Buffalora could be 
distinctly heard. The emperor too arrived on the 
scene, worried and anxious now for MacMahon, 
who ought to have opened the attack two hours 
before, for the hour of noon had just struck from 
the tower of the village church, and MacMahon, 
who had been ordered to commence the attack at 
ten o’clock a.m., had as yet seemingly made no 
move. Despatch after despatch was sent to him 
by Napoleon, and still this mysterious inaction. 
And so also was it with General Oanrobert. He 
353 


354 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


had made no advancre forward. Ilis regiments, 
which were to support the joint attack of the Cler 
and Wimpffen brigades, were not yet arrived. 
Aide-de-camps one after another were sent to hur- 
ry up Canrobert’s cavalry to the positions assigned 
them. 

And now where were the Austrians ? What 
were they doing during all this time, these two 
mortal hoars’ during which they could have en- 
trapped and surrounded these couple of brigades ? 
By a simple and quick sally from Kobecco, the 
Austrians might have hemmed them in between 
the Comal and Ticino. They must surely have 
stood with folded arms, viewing at their leisure 
the brilliancy of the French arms, and the dash 
back and forward of the officers’ horses in search 
of reinforcements. 

At half-past one, by the distant sound of battle 
toward Turbigo, Napoleon knew MacMahon was 
in action. 

He deployed two brigades to take the bridges, 
and again despatched to Niel and Canrobert lo 
hurry up to their support. 

MacMahon left, quite a distance in his rear, two 
Sardinian regiments. They did little but waste 
powder. The marshal left Turbigo at ten o’clock 
A.M., to the minute, to march on Buffalora and 
Magenta, having under him the detachments 
under Generals Lamotterouge, Connon, and Es- 
pinasse. But the column under General Espi- 
nasse, making a great detour, threw so great a dis- 
tance between itself and others that it could not 


355 


The Hunter of the Alps, 

advance without exposing itself in its isolation lo 
be cut up and hacked to pieces by the Austrians. 
Yet Lamotterouge, with the vanguard, comprising 
the Mameluke’s squadron, dislodged some German 
battalions from Casal and lookup a position right 
opposite Clam-Gallas, whose forces lay between 
Guzzafama and Buffalora. 

MacMahon, although anxious about the com- 
mand under General Espinasse, ordered the other 
two detachments to capture Buffalora by a vigor- 
ous assault. 

General Clam retired in good order towards 
Cascina Nuova to rally his forces, and at the same 
time making a feint of returning to Marcallo to 
completely cut off* the division under Espinasse 
from the other two who were shelling Buffalora. 

MacMahon feared for Espinasse when he saw this 
side manoeuvre. He suspended the attack, drew 
back, and caused the artillery to stop firing, then 
headed his spmted charger across the neighboring 
fields, hedged and enclosed as they were, to find . 
Espinasse, warn him of his imminent peril, and 
hurry him up to the scene of action. It was then 
about three o’clock in the afternoon. A show of 
fight on the part of General Clam against the two 
divisions opposite to him would have held Magenta 
until nightfall, and allowed time to the 50,000 men 
of Stadion and Benedek to be up as reinforcements 
for the defence by the morrow’s dawn. But Gene- 
ral Clam remained inactive before the enemy. His 
troops gazed at each other in silence, the arms lay 
unused in their hands, the cannon idle at their 


356 The Hunter of the Alps. 

feet. The men groaned, and in their anger ground 
their teeth. And yet in that quarter not a move- 
ment was made. 0 fatal repose ! 

At a sign from Napoleon the two brigades, 
Wimptfen and Oler, under General Mellinet, sprang 
like a tiger forward to the charge on the bridges 
over Naviglio, and were received with a torrent of 
fire and bullets. A loud cry rang out from the 
ranks of the bold assailants, and at the bayonet’s 
point they carried the redoubt of Ponte Nuovo, the 
houses in its vicinity, and the position that could 
command the villages, but to keep that position 
in face of an enemy that fell back fighting inch by 
inch, and would soon return to an obstinate charge — 
how was it possible for two brigades, alone, unsup- 
ported, and without any reserve to fall back on, to 
cope with this difficult task ? 

Well, the invincible spirit of these battalions of 
the Imperial Guard kept them firm and solidly to 
the posts they had captured. Even under a heavy 
shower of grape they struggled man to man. Now 
they would recapture a house out of which they 
had been dislodged a few moments before ; now 
they would mount again some eminence from which 
they had just been driven. They would even rally 
in presence of the cavalry that had just scattered 
them. In a word, they performed so many acts of 
heroic valor that the Austrian soldiers thought that 
they were contending with not merely two but 
eight or ten Prendi brigades, relieving each other 
in turns. Acting under this wrong idea, they con- 
fined their efforts to hacking in pieces a handful of 


357 


The Hunter of the Alps, 

brave fellows whom a flank movement on the parij 
of the Austrians would have scattered like a mist 
before the strong breath of a northwester. The 
clouds of defenders ever coming up and taking up 
their position along the Naviglio, began to put it 
beyond question that the French could not hold 
the redoubts, dwellings, and heights they had 
crossed. 

The delay of Oanrobert and the other generals 
was caused by the difiBculty of travelling on these 
roads with all the encumbrances of military bag- 
gage — with wagons, mortars, caissons, or covered 
wagons, and horses and mules. Occasionally they 
would meet with a piece of road so broken and im- 
passable that it would be impossible for even the 
infantry to cross it. Fortunately Picard’s bri- 
gade, apart from the body of the main army, was 
yet sufficiently near to the Imperial Guard to hur- 
ry up out of breath to its assistance. ... But it 
only brought more material to the awful carnage. 
The Austrians, infuriated at the capture of Ponte 
Vecchio and Ponte Nuovo, reopened the attack 
with such ardor and violence that they routed and 
drove back the French into the Naviglio. Ponte 
Vecchio was captured and won back again for the 
fourth time, with an extraordinary bravery on both 
sides. 

The French, however, had more success towards 
Ponte Nuovo, though here too they were repulsed 
and mercilessly decimated with grape and canister. 
Generals Hartung and Durfeld, who were here in 
command of the Austrians, signalized themselves by 


3S8 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


wonderful acts of valor. Greneral Cler was striving 
in vain to rally his men and retake the posts from 
which the enemy had driven them. Suddenly he 
exclaimed ; 0 my God I ” Throwing up bis arms 

to his breast, tottering on his horse, he fell at 
length to the ground, shot through the breast, 
f’uur of his grenadiers ran up to bear him away to 
some distance from the deadly fire. Tortel, his or- 
derly officer, runs to acquaint General Mellinet with 
the sad news. ‘^General!’’ he exclaimed, "‘my 
general has just — ” He had not time to finish when 
a bullet crashed through his skull and he fell dead. 

The Guard with General Picard’s forces were 
surrounded on all sides and cut to pieces by the 
Austrians. Colonels, commanders, officers, and 
soldiers fell pell-mell from the top of the trenches 
in one confused mass — slain, mutilated, disfigured. 
The Austrians were already leaping on the cannon 
they just captured, for the artillerymen fell at 
their posts. But the fortune of the day, which 
up to this was clearly with the Austrians, was now 
as suddenly turned against them. ISTiel and Oan- 
robert appeared at the head of their jffialanxes in 
the direction of San Martino. They charged for 
the crossings of the now bloody Naviglio, and their 
charge was as precipitate and violent as the rush of 
waters in an angry sea against a rock-bound coast. 
On every siile there seemed to be new life in the 
struggle. Giulay was obliged to turn his attention 
towards the centre and the left wing because of 
this fresh assault. The right was not so exposed 
to the French. 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


359 


Towards five o’clock p.m. MacMahon with the 
])lay of liis artillery enabled E.'pinasse to rally his 
division. They began to thunder between Bufia- 
lora, G-uzzafame, and Marcallo. 

‘^To Magenta! to Magenta!” said the general 
as loud as he could, and pointing as he galloped 
along the ranks with his naked sword to the steeple 
of the village church. ‘‘There!” he cried — 
“over there ! Look ! there is the place. They 
are all there.” 

And in less time than it takes us to narrate it the 
whole division, with its many regiments, charged as 
with the strength and fury of lions on Clam’s detach- 
ment. They pressed forward quickly on the enemy j 
cutting them off on every side, charging and dis- 
oi'ganizing them, and driving the Austrians before 
them to the shelter of the cottages, where they 
rallied and fought from under cover. It would be 
impossible to tell in words of the shock, the din, 
the roar of battle that closed in that day. The earth 
shook with the tread of the combatants. The air 
was darkened with the masses of black smoke 
whick condensed into black heavy clouds. The 
bodies of the slain lay in heaps as they fell and em- 
barrassed the movements of the troops. On every 
side they fell wounded, disfigured, and mutilated 
by the bursting shells or splinters from the mitraille. 
Those still living took shelter behind the heaps of 
slain, and those in their agony were slain with- 
out mercy. The blood of France and Austria 
ran together in the same stream. The wild neigh- 
ing of the wounded horses arose on the air and 


360 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


mingled with the cries, the groans, and death-rat- 
tle of the dying friends and foes mingled in a last 
embrace, and all together called on the name and as- 
sistance of God. 

But the nature of the struggle assumed another 
form when once the strength of the contest cen- 
tred at Magenta. Now it was more of the nature 
of an assault, as if seizing a fortress. The roof 
tops, chimneys, windows, balconies, terraces, and 
the very walls became as fortifications from which 
poured down as in a sudden a terrible storm — an 
unceasing hail of fire and iron. 

General Espinasse advanced to a house several 
stories high, and in which three hundred Tyrolese 
chasseurs had lodged themselves and kept in check 
his entire command. He ordered his men to 
burst open the doors, hew down the window-shut- 
ters, and dislodge this destructive party ; but 
when he struck with the pommel of his sword 
against one of the out-offices which stood open he 
received from the inside the blow of a carabine 
that killed him on the spot. At this the zouaves 
burst into the house with the fury of tigers, and 
pitiless was the carnage that ensued of these brave 
fellows. They fell still fighting, and striking 
round them with the bayonet and butt-end of their 
muskets. Three hundred died with the arms in 
their hands ; death to them was preferable to the 
most honorable surrender. One alone was spared. 
He was a young officer who was crippled with a 
wound and all covered with blood. When he saw 
the French colonel approach he handed to him his 


The Hunter of the Alps, 361 

sword, yielding as bis prisoner. ^‘No, my brave 
fellow cried that high-spirited soldier — ‘‘no, • 
no ! the man who was one of the three hun- 
dred heroes who lie here deserves to keep and carry 
his sword.” And he offered his hand kindly to 
him. 

The invasion of Magenta and the battery of 
forty cannon placed by General Auger on the rail- 
road track caused Marshal Giulay to command a 
retreat. The Austrians retired in beautiful order, 
fighting every inch of the road. The French did 
not dare to follow them, nor even keep possession 
of Magenta, for a good many of its houses were 
still in possession of General Keischach’s men. 
They left it at nightfall, so that the result of the 
fight at sundown was rather of negative conse- 
quence. General MacMahon dared not count it a 
victory for himself nor speak to the emperor of the 
happy success of that day until he learned at mid- 
night that the troops of Clam and Lichtenstein 
had abandoned their position at Magenta ; then 
only could he speak to the emperor of their victory. 
And it is very certain that during that night Mar- 
shal Giulay did not look on himself as defeated. 
Nor is it less true that he intended to begin the 
battle again at dawn with a charge against the 
allied forces from three fresh regiments that had 
just arrived as reinforcements. But the two gene- 
rals we have just spoken of were somehow too far 
away from the camp to bo recalled. The way to 
Milan was then abandoned to the allied army, and 
tlie Austrian general thought only of extending 


362 The HtL7iter of the Alps, 

his troops along the river Po toward Adda and 
from the direction of Pavia. 

But why do this ? Must we believe that this 
man betrayed his sovereign, the Emperor Francis 
Joseph, as the hing of the Two Sicilies, Francis IL, 
was betrayed by Landi, Brigante, Nunziante, and 
Pianelle ? 

Far from it. Marshal Griulay was ever a straight- 
forward and honorable soldier, and known for his 
high soul, loyal heart, and a disposition faithful 
and devoted to his master. At Solferino he of his 
own accord led a single regiment, and in the 
charge, under the yery eyes of his prince, per- 
formed acts of wondrous bravery. We can find an 
apology for this short campaign of 1859 in the 
words of General Benedek, spoken not long since 
in reply to an illustrious person, who said to him : 

General, I am happy to meet in you a captain 
whose sword and military genius are so much ap- 
preciated by your emperor.” 

^‘For your courtesy,” he replied, I am thank- 
ful; but I have little confidence in either my 
sword or my generalship. Marshal Giulay wielded 
a brave sword and was a soldier of exalted talent, 
and to what purpose ?... He lost his head after 
crossing the Ticino.” 

‘^That is true,” said the other. ‘^God then 
wished, to punish Italy.” 


CHAPTER XLV. 


ADOLPHUS. 

« 

Maso did not, as the reader might expect from 
his Yioleot attack of illness, succumb to that fell de- 
stroyer, fever. He bore all his suffering with stoic, 
or rathér Christian, fortitude, and finally rallied and 
recovered. The exquisite agony he had endured 
was followed by a reaction, and in a brief space he 
regained the power of thought and speech. 

On his comrade’s recovery Julian too became 
himself again. On the morning that Mr. Adrian 
was so wholly occupied in commenting on the re- 
j)orts spread concerning the battle of Magenta 
Julian rose, and, availing himself of the moment 
when his friend was left alone, he approached the 
bed whereon he was stretched and asked in friend- 
ly tone : 

You are getting better, are you not ? ” 

‘^Yes, I am getting much better,” answered 
Maso in feeble accents, but with joyous and hope- 
ful look. I almost feel like trying an experiment 
in acrobatics. I have run a race with Death and 
come in winner. I — but tell me, Julian, where are 
we anyhow ? ” 

• ‘‘ We are staying at the residence of Mr. Adrian 
363 


3^4 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


— a wealthy and worthy gentleman. His brother 
is a veritable fool ; so beware of him. If he gets you 
down among his flowers it is doubtful if he doesn’t 
bore you to death. The gentleman of the house is 
a liberal of the most advanced type — a madcap 
radical.” 

‘'But who is the fool you speak about ? ” 

“ Mr. Celsus ” 

“ Why, yesterday he presented me with a trifling 
bouquet, apropos of which he delivered a speech 
that would make even a mummy jump with im- 
patience. But who is that splendid lady who has 
attended me with such care ? ” 

“ That is the mistress of the house.” 

Whereupon Julian related all the incidents that 
had transpired during the week to Maso, and then 
continued : 

“ Take precious good care, my friend. Let us 
not speak too glibly. Be courteous, polite, and 
amiable in every regard, but have prudence. Do 
you understand ? Do not say anything that you 
can help of our families or of ourselves.” 

“ Well, I am afraid you are too late. Yesterday 
I let the cat out of the bag. I really said a thou- 
sand things that I should not say.” 

“ What did you say ? Tell me that.” 

“ That, really, I could not exactly say, for my 
head is confused. But I mentioned your name to 
her. . . . She knows that your mother is in search 
of you, and is even now in Turin.” 

“What foolishness!” muttered Julian, half aloud. 

Madame Clelia just then appeared in the room. 


3^5 


The Hunter of the Alps, 

She spoke kindly to the young people, and congra- 
tulated Maso on his convalescence. 

“And how are you, Rupert?” she exclaimed. 
“ Are you quieter and more at your ease to-day, so 
that I can reason with you ?” 

“ Yes, dear lady, I feel myself again, ’since Maso 
has taken such a happy change and is now recov- 
ering.” 

“ The news of the French victory ought to af- 
ford you an interesting subject of conversation. 
Now the young Count Julian can return to his 
dear mother and beautiful sister Natalie. That 
will be a great thing, don’t you think so, Maso ? ” 

At this little malicious joke of the good lady 
Julian reddened and looked down, while his com- 
panion replied naively : 

“ 0 madame ! he has so scolded me because I 
told you how his mother and sister were in search 
of him, and how they loved him, and how anxious 
they were on his account.” 

“But my dear Maso, . . .” said the irritated 
and petulant Julian, “ your poor head is certainly, 
weak from the fever. Madame, please pay no at- 
tention to him. Maso has a humorous turn now, 
and he jibes all around, careless of how deep his 
shafts penetrate.” 

Ah ! I really pity you,^ said the good lady, with 
a sweet and melancholy smile. “You wished to 
keep from me lest I should appear indifferent 
to the feelings of your dear mother and sister that 
you forsook your home. Be assured, my dear 
child, that I perceived this from the first instant. 


366 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


and at the same time observed your touches of re- 
morse and sorrow. Trust in me, both of you, my 
dear youths, and I can promise you that I will do 
all I can to e3ect your return to your homes. I 
was also a mother, and, alas ! I too know what it 
is to lose a son, so that I can readily sympathize 
with your mothers. Oh ! my poor son Adolphus; he 
was the only object of my maternal love. He was 
about your age, Julian — scarcely in his eighteenth 
year. He resembled you much, and you recall him 
at times so much to my memory that at first I 
could not help weeping. He was good, pure, and 
was possessed of many external graces and accom- 
plishments ; and he was so clever during his colle- 
giate course that he carried away every class prize. 
He was my only joy and solace in this world. I 
cannot tell you how considerate and affectionate he 
ever bore himself towards his parents. Alas I I 
was not worthy to he the mother of such a boy. 
His foolish and misguided father, Adrian, led him 
in 1848 to volunteer for the Lombard legions. All 
my supplications and tears were of no avail. I 
embraced him on the 7th of May for the last time. 
It was there on the terrace we parted. The poor 
child wept bitterly. He took my hands and kissed 
them passionately. ‘ Mother,’ he said, ‘ we shall 
never meet again here below ; the fault is not 
mine. . . . Dead or alive I am ever and always your 
son. I shall for ever love you. Pray for me.’ ” 
Julian could not bear this any longer. He was 
touched in his very soul. ‘^No more, dear Ma- 
dame Clelia, no more, I beg of you; for this disturbs 


The Hunter of the Alps, 367 

you, and even now you are overwhelmed with emo- 
tion.” 

'^No, no, children ; my only comfort now is to 
speak of him, and in the sympathy of souls so kind- 
ly sensitive and loving as yours are.” 

“Now learn, dear Julian and Maso, from my 
troubles, what sorrow and tears your flight has 
given the fond ones at home : 

“ My boy left, and I never saw him more. For 
the last ten years I have deplored his loss and my 
own sojourn here ; for I would be united with my 
child* 

“ After the battle of Novara, in 1849, Adolphus 
was led to the siege of Rome to fight against 
the Pope and the French. There he went in spite of 
himself, and he did all he could not to take part 
in an engagement. He disguised himself, and 
under the cover of the night went to a holy priest, 
besought him to hear his confession and aid him to 
desert from the army. 

“The good religious consoled him, and asked for 
a few days to consider over it. In the meantime 
my boy was placed on duty at the Casino, which 
lies outside of -the Gate of St. Pancrace. 

“The French made a sudden attack on that 
quarter. He was struck down by three bullets. 
His shoulder was broken and he was otherwise 
mortally wounded. 

“ The poor boy was in agony for three hours, 
alone, abandoned, and dying unattended. ... A 
brave French surgeon came up as he was expiring 
and received his last sigh. He told me all the 


368 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


horrible details of my child’s death. , . . Poor 
boy ! his only thought then was for his mother. 
He also said to the good priest, of whom I have just 
spoken to you, that if he should return here — giv- 
ing my address — that he would convey to me his 
last farewell and the assurance that he had fallen 
rather than fire a single shot on the noble French 
who were fighting for the Pope. 

He expired, the surgeon told me, praying to 
God and the Blessed Virgin for his mother, and 
that God would pardon his father. 

‘‘What has this unfortunate father gained by 
so heartless a sacrifice ? Blame, grief, and afflic- 
tion.” 

Mme* Clelia moved Julian and Maso beyond 
what words could tell by her sorrowful history. 
They wept from sympathy with her. 

Julian twisted and turned in his chair to sup- 
press the rising tears. 

“We really sympathize with you in your-grief, 
dear lady,” said Maso when she had concluded. 
“But do you really think,” he said, “that our pa- 
rents are now as grieved for us as you are for 
your son ? ” 

“Ho doubt of it ! ” 

“ Well, God be thanked, we are not yet dead.” 

“ Do they know it ? Who told them that you are 
alive ? Think you that the countess, who is now in 
search of Julian, and can learn nothing of his 
whereabouts, is content and does not lose her sleep 
and rest ? ” 

“ It is we,” said Adrian, “ who shall now sleep 


The Hunter of the Alps, 369 

in peace in future,”^s he entered in time to catch 
the last phrase. “ The Austrians/’ he said, 
when he caressed Maso, and shook J Lilian warmly 
by the hand, are defeated. Milan during 
the whole night has been filled with ambu- 
lances, unsaddled horses, wounded soldiers, and 
artillerists in hasty retreat. They have evacu- 
ated Milan ; the batteries have been every- 
where silenced. It was, indeed, a fearful day. 
The tricolor floats from every window, from every 
balcony ; the municipality proceeds to promulgate 
the new government of King Victor, and to-mor- 
low or after to-morrow the allied armies will make 
their triumphal entry into the city. Hurrah for 
Italy 1 Will you accompany me to witness this 
triumph ? We shall crown with flowers the ban- 
ners of the liberators of Lombardy ; we shall hail 
with acclamation the ^gentleman king,’ Victor 
Emmanuel, and Hapoleon, the invincible. I 
am going away this evening or to-morrow morning. 
Will you come with me ? ” 

At this offer Julian leaped to his feet, and, all- 
joyous, exclaimed : 

‘‘Yes, yes, Mr. Adrian ; I expect to meet a dear 
friend down there.” 

Whom do you expect to meet ? ” 

‘‘His mother,” remarked Clelia, as shesmiledat 
the emotion manifested by J ulian. 

“ So much the better,” answered Adrian. “ We 
shall start this afternoon at four o’clock sharp.” 

“ Why not to-morrow ?” demanded Julian after 
a moment’s hesitatioii, “If I dared I would beg 


370 , The Hii7itcr of the Alps, 

you to wait half a day or so till I would ho fully 
assured of my friend’s recovery.” 

^‘Well, we shall consult the doctor. At all 
events madame will take good care of our Tuscan 
friend. Hurrah for Magenta !” 

What is the use of trying to keep that a se- 
cret that has already been almost entirely reveal- 
ed ? ” 

Julian, therefore, gave his real name and condi- 
tion to Madame Clelia. Adrian became immedi- 
ately more friendly toward him, and promised not 
to say a word to any one of him, not even to his 
brother Celsus. 

On the following day, in the afternoon, Julian 
learned from the physician that his comrade was 
out of danger. Approaching the bedside of the 
latter, who implored him to return with, the least 
possible delay, he said: 

Do not be anxious ; I shall be back soon. Of 
that you should have no doubt.” 

And you will bring me a civilian suit.” 

Certainly. We have over two thousand francs 
remaining yet ; and then, should I meet my mo- 
ther, I can guarantee that I will soon have two 
thousand more.” 

But what if she insist on your returning home 
immediately ? ” 

No, no ; it will be the other way : I shall 
bring her and Natalie here. I hope I shall meet 
them. They must certainly pass by Milan in order 
to approach the encampment of the volunteers, 
where they imagine I am still. Their letter from 


The Hunter of the Alps, 371 

Arona scarce leaves any doubt on that head. Ma- 
dame Clelia declares that it would afford her the 
utmost happiness to entertain my mother for a few 
days. I am buoyed up with hope. Do you, in the 
meantime, wish for anything else ? ” 

‘‘ Yes ; I desire you to drop a note to my father 
and give him full information about me. Can you 
do so?” 

Certaimy.” 

And you will return in haste ? ” 

Assuredly.” 

Do not forget to present my kindest acknow- 
ledgments to your mother for the interest she has 
taken in me.” 

On that you may rely. I shall speak more 
about you than myself. Is that all you wish ? ” . 

All.” 

Au revoir, then.” 

And as he spoke Julian passed out, leaped into 
the carriage, and drove with his kind host to the 
Milan station. 




CHAPTER XLVI. 

COUNT JAMES ON HIS JOUKNET. 

Nothing more beautiful or picturesque could 
be conceived than the road through Switzerland 
from Mendrisio to Como, leading by the fertile 
slopes of Chiasso. New scenes are perpetually 
presented to the view — mountainous and beautiful 
in their irregularity at one moment, lovely as a 
flower-garden the next. This road runs toward 
the heights of Mount Olimpino, and leads from 
hillock to hillock, from plain to plain, through plea- 
sant valleys and smiling prairies. Beyond the slopes 
referred to the road gradually descends between two 
precipices, covered with vines and orchards, skirt- 
ing lovely villas and passing by sumptuous country 
homes. Through the trees that line the way 
pretty houses peep out on every side. Here one 
beholds beautiful gardens decked with every variety 
of flowers ; on the other hand rich plantations, 
covered with fruit-trees, flowers, and forests of oak 
and laurels; and, crowning all, Como, that love- 
liest of cities, presents itself to the view of the 
admiring traveller. 

Toward daybreak, on the morning of the 5th of 
June, Count James, guided by a young peasant, 
372 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


373 


descended in the direction of the city. His car- 
riage was driven by a coachman flourishing all the 
colors of Savoy. The skies were calm and serene, 
and the distant hills tipped with the golden glow 
of morning. Leaning back in a corner of the car- 
riage, the peasant lay fast asleep, insensible to the 
ravishing beauty of the scene. The count, ab- 
sorbed in contemplation, now feasted his eyes on 
the beauteous and spreading scene, now musingly 
listened to the birds in the branches of the trees 
trilling out their quick notes of joy. At length they 
attained the summit of the eminence, and the 
charming city of Como, with its glittering roofs, 
burst upon the view. On the left appeared the 
city, forming, with the smiling landscape, a scene 
of indescribable beauty. The better to enjoy the 
surroundings, he descended from the carriage and 
proceeded for a brief space on foot. 

While wrapped in admiration of the exquisite 
spectacle that met his view an unexpected call 
from his driver aroused him from his dreamings. 
All at once he called out : 

Sir, do you observe what is taking place down 
there?” 

And as he spoke he pointed to a knot of soldiers 
who were climbing the hill hard by and advancing 
slowly in their direction. 

Are these Garibaldians ? ” demanded the count. 

Certainly. Don’t you see they are ?” 

The driver immediately flung out his Savoyard 
colors in the most conspicuous manner in token of 
friendship. The count felt for the moment a little 


374 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


uneasy, but remained apparently cool and imper- 
turbable. Opening the carriage door he looked 
out;, and, with a sort of [cavalier dash and non- 
chalant air, awaited the question of the captain of 
the detachment. 

Who goes there ? ’’ 

Friends ! Hurrah for united Italy ! Long 
live Garibaldi ! ” 

‘‘ Hurrah ! ” answered the soldiers with deafen- 
ing shout. 

Where are you bound for, my brave fellows ?” 
asked the count as he advanced toward them. 

We are on duty,” they answered. 

General Garibaldi at Como ?” 

Yes, sir, for the last three days.” 

With all his Chasseurs ? ” 

All.” 

And the Austrians ? ” 

The Austrians, sir ? Ah ! they amount to no- 
thing ; it makes no difference where they are,” 
answered a little lank individual with a shrill Tus- 
can accent. 

^‘From what city in Tuscany are you, mv good 
fellow?” 

‘^From San Miniato, sir.” 

A real Tuscan, with many friends, I presume, 
among the volunteers ? ” 

Among the seven men whom you see here, sir, 
there are two Tuscans,” answered another hand- 
some-looking youth with dashing, foppish air and 
finely-waxed moustache. Can I be of any ser- 
vice to you ?” 


The Hunter of the Alps, 375 

To what regiment do you belong ? ” 

To the Third Regiment ; we all belong to the 
Third.” 

‘‘If I am not greatly mistaken, sir,” observed 
the captain, “you are going down to Como to 
meet some of our comrades. In that case you had 
better hurry up, for we start to-day. You will 
meet a great many Lombards down there — whole 
familes who have come thither to meet their chil- 
dren and friends.” 

“ You have guessed right, captain,” answered 
the count in derisive tones. “Since you are so 
amiable and obliging, you will, I trust, do me the 
favor of giving me some news of J ulian and Maso, 
of the Second Regiment ? ” 

The seven men looked at one another, and gave 
no other answer than a simple shrug of the shoul- 
ders. 

“ What ! you from San Muniate, and do not 
know one of jour own Tuscans ? One of the 
friends I enquire about is from the Grand Duchy.” 

“Oh ! that must be the handsome young fel- 
low,” observed a native of Pisa, “ who was always 
along with that other nice fellow — the paper sol- 
diers, you know.” 

“ Ah ! I remember. He is at Corno ; I met him 
yesterday in a cafe A 

“ Was he along with his friend ? ” asked the count 
in a state of great surprise. 

“ With Rupert ? He is from the Romagna, 
isn’t he?” 

“ Yes ; he is from — .” 


376 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


Yes ; I met him yesterday in the restaurant.” 

I am sure, then, of finding both ? ” 
‘^Certainly,” 

But one of these boys has been wounded at 
Varese ? ” added the count. 

‘‘Oh ! if he frequents the cafe his wound can- 
not be very serious.” 

“Thank you, my brave fellows.” 

And as be spoke he placed a piece of coin in 
each of their hands, and withdrew in the .most ob- 
sequious fashion. He then remounted his seaf, 
drove onward, and arrived at Como about four 
o’clock in the afternoon. 




CHAPTER XLVIL 

WHERE ARE THEY ? 

For three days and nights Julian’s uncle sought 
unceasingly for his nephew. He was determined 
to find him, cost what it may. 

For this purpose James had secured the services 
of the peasant referred to. When he kept awake 
he was a consummate diplomat. He had been re- 
commended to him by the Chevalier Eugene. As 
a guide he was unexcelled ; he knew every foot of 
the country; he was also a bearer of correspond- 
ence between the various posts, inasmuch as the 
lines of communication were almost invariably in- 
terrupted, and it was next to impossible to receive 
in Piedmont anything coming from Lombardy. 

In entering the suburbs of Como the count was 
quite jubilant, on account of the good news he had 
received from the Garibaldians. He was exceed- 
ingly anxious that the coachman should stop at the 

Crown Hotel,” where he purposed, for the time 
being, remaining. After a stay of two hours at 
the inn the driver resumed his journey toward Chi- 
vasso, accompanied by the guide, who was supposed 
to be able to find some news of Julian for the Che- 
377 


378 The Hunter of the Alps. 

valier Eugene. The latter was to transmit any in- 
telligence received immediately to the Countess 
Leonie. The Count James accordingly was hurry- 
ing with the desire to utilize the two hours, and to 
surprise his nephew some place in the city, or at 
least to find out exact intelligence as to his where- 
abouts. 

After having executed his orders and taken 
somè refreshment at his hotel, the count began to 
parade the streets. Every volunteer he met he 
imagined to be Julian, and he met them in num- 
bers without number as he went .to every place from 
the barracks to the most frequented cafes, in fact, 
wherever they were supposed to be found. He en- 
quired, whenever he met one who did not betray 
the jail-bird or the thief in his physiognomy, for 
Julian and Maso. 

The first with whom he spoke was a good-for- 
nothing sort of wag from Ancona, who laughed in 
his face after making a stupid attempt at wit. 
Soon after he fell in with a corpulent little soldier 
bearing the Garibaldian uniform. 

My good fellow,” he observed, would you be 
kind enough to give me some account of Rupert, 
of the Second Regiment ? ” 

^^To get you reliable intelligence you should go 
up to San Fermo, not far from here ; our regiment 
is there. I, too, belong to the Second Regiment.” 

^^Ah ! you must know Rupert, then ?” 

Yes, I have seen him at Savigliano ; but it is a 
long time ago.” 

Whence do you come ?” 


379 


The Hunter of the Alps, 

I am a native of Parma.” 

When did you ‘see my friend last ? ” 

Immediately after the battle of Varese. He 
was first-rate. It was at Olgiate I saw him. His 
companion, a handsome-looking young fellow from 
Tuscany, who was always with him, told me that 
he was of a noble family and heir to an enormous 
fortune.” 

Then, if I went to San Fermo, I should see at 
least the young Tuscan of whom you speak ? ” 

‘‘All right, sir; I cannot remain longer, so you 
must please excuse me. I am an artillerist, and do 
not always attend drill, but you know I must some- 
times put in an appearance.” 

Whereupon the' Chasseur courteously saluted 
the count, and resumed his course. A third party 
soon appeared on the scene. He belonged to the 
First Eegiment. Of our young soldier friends he 
knew nothing, but he depicted to the Count James, 
in the most vivid terms, the*fatigues and hardships 
endured by the volunteers from the 26th of May to 
the 2d of June. He related the siege of Fort 
Laveno, which was disastrous in the extreme for 
the Chasseurs of the Alps. The Austrians, put 
on their guard through their spies, got knowledge 
of the secrets of the enemy, and lay in wait, hoping 
that the Garibaldians would issue from their van- 
tage corner and show fair fight on the field. The 
enemy, taking advantage of every opportunity 
offered, fell upon them and slaughtered them with- 
out quarter. 

“ Do you see that chatterbox prattler there ? ” 


38 o 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


he continued. I have caught him, and. I may tell 
you, too, that I am thankful for having escaped 
with my life to Como ! ’’ 

So far, so good ; hut then we derive no particu- 
lars anent our two young soldier friends, J ulian 
and Maso. 

He continued to question every volunteer whom 
he met. The most of them gave him no informa- 
tion of any account, and even answered him in a 
cold, if not a really insulting, manner. On one 
side he heard that the two youths he was in search 
of were at present remaining in the city, that they 
were stationed still at Borgo vico, or that they were 
on picket-duty at Camerlata. Some there were 
even who said that it was highly probable that 
they were already disbanded. A group of soldiers 
who were reclining listlessly on the benches before 
a tavern assured him that Maso had recently been 
made prisoner, and that his friend had been slight- 
ly wounded at Laveno. One advised him that the 
best thing he could do was to address himself to 
Colonel Medici, another that he should go through 
all the hospital wards. In a word, the contradic- 
tory stories he heard were enough to turn the head 
of an Archimedes, and consequently the less geo- 
metrical head of Count James. Annoyed and con- 
founded by so many contradictory advices, and 
pressed for want of time, he returned to his hotel, 
where his coachman was awaiting him. Here they 
for the first time learned the details of the great 
battle of Magenta, which had occurred on the pre- 
vious evening, and was won by the French. The 


The Himter of the Alps. 381 

gates of Milan were flung open to the allied 
armies. 

He was deeply troubled on learning such adverse 
news. The count, it must be observed, was an 
uncompromising stickler for the Austrians, and lie 
cordially hoped for the defeat of the Piedmontese. 
In saying this we by no means wish to imply that 
he preferred foreign rule to a national, home go- 
vernment. He ardently desired, on the contrary, 
that this kingdom would become absolutely inde- 
pendent of Vienna. But while agreeing as to this 
point with all sagacious and far-seeing Italians, he 
had sense enough to know that, once freed from 
the Austrians, the Peninsula would fall into the 
hands of the Freemasons. James accordingly 
abandoned those sectaries, and indeed those of 
every type, and he cherished no admiration for the 
dynasty of Carignan. 

James was in principle and spirit, in nature and 
education, thoroughly devoted to Pius IX. Ho 
was perfectly conscious that this war tended to the 
subversion of the throne and the despoilment of 
the most precious jewels in the crown of St. Peter, 
to adorn the crowns set on the heads of the future 
rulers of Italy. This sacrilegious dismemberment 
was calculated to excite the indignation of even the 
most apathetic, and elicited from the count expres- 
sions that, to use a mild expression, could be scarce 
called parliamentary. The reader may, therefore, 
readily conceive the pain felt by the count on hear- 
ing of the unexpected rout of the Austrians. This 
emotion, joined to the anger he naturally felt on the 


382 The Hunter of the Alps, 

news received from the G-ariby-ldians, caused him 
to burst into a state of great excitemenL He 
paced his room in the most nervous manner, while 
the peasant-guide referred to. Procope (for siich 
was his name), and the driver looked at him in the 
greatest amazement. 

‘‘Well, count,’’ finally observed Procope, as ho 
carelessly folded his arms, “ what are we doing ? ” 

^‘It is after six o’clock,” added the driver, in 
a timid tone. 

“Just one moment. Don’t annoy me,” an- 
swered the count, as he continued to pace up and 
down, and ruminate on the contradictory news ho 
had received. 

But finally, following his own desires rather 
than the counsels of prudence, he sat down and 
wrote to the Chevalier Eugene, begging him to in- 
form the countess that in all probability Julian and 
his comrade were safe and sound, and would soon 
be restored to their bereaved parents. Having 
folded his missive, he handed it to Procope, and 
took leave of him in the politest manner. 

It must be admitted the count acted rather has- 
tily ; but he wished to send a few words of conso- 
lation to Leonie. 

Immediately after the departure of the cabman 
the count went out into the street and met a pom- 
pous little Caribaldian officer, who, after hearing 
his story, advised him to go and see Cen. Garibaldi 
himself. He told him to hasten at once to the 
Grand City Hotel, where he would be sure to find 
the hero. The count, though knowing that it was 


The Hunter of the Alps, 383 

no small matter to obtain from Garibaldi Julian’s 
exemption from service at a time when he was soli- 
citing recruits, decided nevertheless to have an 
interview with him, hoping to find a key to the 
difiiculty. 

It was a heart-crushing humiliation for the 
count to go into the presence of Garibaldi. But 
the intense desire to find his nephew induced him 
to fiaunt the ribbon of Savoy and assume the airs 
of a Liberal. The same desire impelled him to 
venture a meeting with the commander of the vo- 
lunteers, who, in the main, had not the fascinating 
eye of the serpent and the poisoned breath of the 
basilisk. He ' accordingly entered the municipal 
palace, asked to see the general, and then seated 
himself in the parlor, where, he was told, he would 
see him in a few moments. While waiting, his 
mind was busily occupied in thinking what he 
would say, and the best means to be devised in 
order to secure success. 



CHAPTEE XLVIII. 


GAEIBALDI. 

After about ten minutes the parlor door was 
fluug open and the general entered, accompanied 
by three gentlemen in citizen’s clothes and two offi- 
cers wearing gorgeous military uniforms. Gari- 
baldi wore a broad-brimmed military hat, a well- 
fitting uniform, and a long sword suspended from 
his belt. He spoke in a rather loud tone, and 
seemed to be in no gentle mood. The count lis- 
tened attentively as he keenly scrutinized this odd 
individual. He then stated his business in the 
most adroit and insinuating way. 

It is well known that Joseph Garibaldi is a man 
of medium height, with broad, square, massive 
shoulders, bony, muscular, and robust; in short, 
of herculean frame. He wears a long, flowing 
beard, has a head of thick, shaggy hair, nicely 
parted over the right temple in order to cover his 
mutilated ear. It falls in heavy locks down on his 
siioulders. His forehead is large, dome-like, and 
of marble impassibility. His eyes are keen and 
lustrous. A habitual knitting of the brows adds a 
mixture of brilliance and ferocity, or, at any rate, 
384 


The Huìiter of the Alps. 


385 

a contrasting shade, to the natural clearness of his 
eye. His nose is of the Grecian type and perfectly 
chiselled, while his mouth is entirely hidden under 
his huge moustache. His admirers affirm that this 
mouth is the seat of all the graces, and that his 
coral lips flash smiles that at once ravish all hearts. 
Doubtless they are the smiles that the god Mars 
casts at the mischievous child of Oytherae. The ex- 
pression of his countenance is daring and bold ; his 
step elastic and firm ; his gesticulation quick and 
nervous ; and his language rather embarrassed 
than laconic. His friends and adorers proclaim in 
prose and verse that he is frank in tone and 
sprightly in conversation, singularly amiable, win- 
ning, witty, and of unruffled temper ; that ho be- 
stows praise with moderation ; that he knows how 

to pass from the grave to the gay, from the 
lively to the severe ’’ ; that he has the thunder or 
the rainbow at his command ; that he can force 
the smile or the tear, and can at will inspire hope 
or fear, liate or love. It is therefore evident that, 
leaving all exaggeration aside, this man has, in a 
large measure, received from nature all the quali- 
ties of the actor and the warrior, or, as some ob- 
serve, those of the merry-andrew disguised in a 
Cincinnatus. 

One thing, however, is conspicuously evident — 
namely, that the Garibaldi of 1859 was, in a multi- 
tude of ways, wholly different from the Garibaldi 
of 1862. He did not the^ blaspheme, with the 
earnestness and solemnity that at present charac- 
terize his language and writings, against all that is 


386 


The Hu7iter of the Alps. 


most sacred in heaven and on earth. Xor was he 
then the strutting, pragmatical buffoon that he has 
since proven himself to be. lie was not in 1859 
the boasting babbler, the ludicrous swaggerer, the 
mean mountebank who now vaults on to every 
platform to harangue nincompoops and the basest 
of the rabble rout ; who from every city balcony 
preaches to the mob, who proses platitudes in 
every low tavern, and hobnobs in every gambling- 
hell with thieves and pickpockets. He did not 
then dance around, wrapped up in his American 
cloak, speckled like the helmet of Harlequin, and 
set off with as many feathers as ^sop^s raven. 
He did not then go about amid the shoufs of the 
mob, shaking his mane, puffing out his cheeks, 
and turkey-trampling with ridiculous ostentation. 
He did not then, in order to make himself look 
like the eighth wonder of the world, drown the four 
quarters of the globe with a flood of literary slush • 
he did not insult rulers, vilify princes, excommuni- 
cate the pope, or deride the priesthood with coarse 
blasphemy. He did not then curse every poten- 
tate, and denounce all authority, defying and 
braving the anger of the universe, like the frog in 
the fable, that wanted to raise a quarrel with the 
stars. 

It is not unworthy of remark, too, that the Gari- 
baldi of 1859 had but lately landed from China, 
and that he leaped up all at once from the little 
isle of Caprera, where lie had planted his cabbages 
and weeded his carrots ; and we might also observe 
that the then Garibaldi had not assumed the 


The Hunter of the Alps. 387 

weighty duty and pompous til le of dictator of a 
kingdom that he pretended to have conquered by 
force of arms, .but which in reality had been sold 
and surrendered him by felonious, cowardly, and 
mercenary captains and the disloyalty of suborned 
ministers. 

The Garibaldi of that period had not yet flung, 
through pure ostentation, the grand cordon of the 
Order of the Annunciation in the face of Count 
Cavour. He had not refused the title of Prince of 
Palermo that a crowned head humbly offered him ; 
he had not thrown back to the magnates of the 
new kingdom of Italy their honors, pensions, and 
privileges. He had not as yet mounted the stool 
of the demagogue, and the smoke of the incense 
burned at his feet had not so intoxicated him as to 
induce him to think that he was greater than God 
and man. He had not, in short, verified the pro- 
verb which says, “ ISTo pride is equal to that of the 
parvenu.” * 

If certain persons had taken the trouble to make 
all these remarks, they would not be under the ne- 
cessity of inventing the little romance of the two 
Garibaldis: The false Garibaldi living, the real 

Garibaldi dead,” a story put in circulation among 
the good people of Naples, who firmly believe it. 
In 1860, it is said, the Garibaldi cf the Chasseurs 
of the Alps died, that he was slain at the battle of 
Yolturno, and that his partisans, in order to derive 
all the benefit attaching to his name, sought out 


* Non è superbia alla superbia uguale, 
D’uu basso e vii che in alto stato sale. 


388 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


and found a sort of mountebank bearing a perfect 
resemblance to Garibaldi ; that they sc questered him 
in Caprera till his beard grew to a proper length, 
and that, finally, having instructed him in the art 
of mimicking the old adventurer, they launched 
him on the scene to say and do all the stupid things 
and clownish tricks whereby the present Garibaldi 
has the secret of making all Europe laugh. 

And, lest any one should doubt it, they corrobo- 
rate it with the most conclusive arguments. They 
give the name, age, country, and profession, the 
life, virtues, and miracles, of the charlatan who acts 
under the appearance of Garibaldi ; they cite the 
witnesses who saw the real Garibaldi fall j they 
name the day, the hour, and the spot with minutest 
detail. We have heard a military surgeon of the late 
army of Naples affirm, on his word of honor, that 
he was present at the hero’s death. He saw him 
fall from his horse, and hastily carried away in the 
midst of a withering storm of bullets. Several 
Garibaldians do not hesitate to confirm that fact, 
though adroitly, as it would be death for them to 
plainly reveal it. 

The discerning minds alluded to have another 
criterion whereby to establish the fact that the pre- 
sent Garibaldi cannot be the Garibaldi of the past. 
The latter, they assure you, could scarce handle a 
pen, while the so-called Garibaldi casts off daily a ^ 
whole volume of letters and sorry jests ; the one 
knew scarcely enough of grammar to make himself 
understood, the other deluges us with it daily ; the 
one was, or at least had the bearing of, a soldier, the 


The Hunter of the Alps. 389 

other is but a buffoon ; ibe one was secret as the 
night, the other proclaims all his affairs from the 
housetops. 

Thus they reason, as if one needed to believe that 
the living Garibaldi has always written with his 
own hand or derived all this rubbish from his own 
brain ; as if all the balderdash he has produced was 
stamped with the seal of the purest rhetoric ; as if 
a man who, for love of Italy,” filled so many oc- 
cupations, from that of herder to that of dictator, 
from that of pirate to a Piedmontese general, could 
not for the same cause turn a quack doctor. But 
it is none of onr purpose to overturn any of the 
castles in Spain built by the framers of this little 
Neapolitan fable. The kingdom of Italy knows 
full well if the Garibaldi she defeated, wounded, 
and made prisoner in the gorges of * Aspromonte is 
or is not a manikin. 




CHAPTER XLIX. 

ACHILLES. 

General, I present you my compliments. I 
am proud of having the distinguished honor of 
shaking, the hand that so bravely wields the sword,” 
said Count James, as he approached Garibaldi with 
some hesitation and shook him by the hand. 

Whom hav^e I the honor of addressing ? ” de- 
manded the latter in a cold, supercilious tone. 

“ The Count of ” 

Ah ! you come from the Romagna ? Have 
you come on any mission ? Are they preparing . 
down there to get rid of the priestly mob and those 
Austrian rascals?” 

‘‘General,” replied the count, greatly embar- 
rassed, “ I cannot say that I have come on a mis- 
sion. I have a nephew in your Chasseurs.” ^ 

“ Ah ! I am glad.” 

“ I have come to see him. I would be very 
thankful if you tell mo how to find him.” 

“ In what regiment is he ? ” 

“ In the Second Regiment.” 

“ Apply to Colonel Medici.” 

An officer in dazzling uniform entered at this 
890 


The Hunter of the Alps. 391 

moment and lianded the general a sealed letter. 
Garibaldi tore it open, glanced over its contents, 
frowned darkly, and, without even condescending 
to apologize to the count, passed out of the room. * 
Oh ! ’V exclaimed the count to himself, “how • 
painful it is to humble myself before such a 
wretch.” 

The count returned to his hotel in no gentle 
mood of temper. He at once ordered a carriage to 
drive to San Fermo. There he was met by the 
same uncertainties, the same contradictions. He 
was told one moment that Julian was dead, that 
Maso was made prisoner, and told the contrary the 
next. 

All the information he could derive from the 
captain of their company was the fact that both 
were missing at roll-call after the affair of San 
Fermo, and that since no one could give any ac- 
count of them. The count’s heart sank within 
him, and he meditated in vain for some possible 
means affording an escape from this inextricable 
labyrinth. 

He was in this condition and state of doubt 
when he observed approaching him*a person of a 
singularly handsome and prepossessing counten- 
ance, though clad in rags and the very impersona- 
tion of poverty. Calling him aside, the unhappy 
youth asked : 

“ Sir, are you not Count James of ? Do you 

not recognize me ? ” 

The count stared at him for a moment, and then 
exclaimed : 


392 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


What ! you, Achilles ? Why, I can scarce be- 
lieve my eyes.” 

^‘It is but too true,” replied tlie youth, as a 
crimson tinge mantled his cheek. 

‘^What ! you a G-aribaldian, in your fifteenth 
year ? ” 

Yes ; and though you are my godfather you 
will, I hope, forgive me. But tell me, first, have you 
any news from home ? Has my father returned 
from Paris ? and my mother, sisters, and brothers ?” 

But were you not at the College of ? Does 

the Marquis Alphonsus know — 

I have been foully deceived, betrayed. Hobody 
is aware of my condition. I am now. without a 
farthing and perishing of hunger, and I could not 
under any circumstances summon up courage to 
write home.” 

‘‘Well, you shall be cared for by me,” observed 
the count, deeply touched. “ I shall restore you to 
your parents. Our children arc no longer safe iq 
any of our educational institutions. But fling aside 
at once that belt, throw off that infamous uniform, 
and tear away those buttons marked with the cross 
of the impenitent thief. Leave this place ! BuU 
tell me, first, do you belong to Julian’s regiment ? ” 

“What! Julian, the son of the Countess 
Leonie ? He a G-aribaldian too ? ” 

“ Alas ! yes. And you have not met him ? ” 

“Ho, never.” 

“To what regiment do you belong ?” 

“The Third. I am at San Fermo through the 
merest accident.” 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


393 


When did yon enlisfc ? ” 

A few days before the war broke out/’ 

And you have never met Julian ? ” 

No ; after all, I could scarce know him, I en- 
tered college so young. Oh ! for Heaven’s sake, 
rescue me from my present woful condition. 
This’ place is an earthly hell !” 

This boy, still so young, was the hope and joy of 
a rich and noble house of Emelia, and united by 
the closest bonds of friendship to the family of 
Julian. Achilles was the oldest of three brothers, 
and had two sisters older than himself. One of 
them, Amelia, was destined in the mind of the 
Countess Leonie to one day become the wife of 
Julian, and it must be confessed that would 
be a desirable match under every respect. We 
shall not detail, for it is a dark and atrocious story, 
how poor Achilles, with two of his classmates, was 
decoyed from the college wherein his father had 
placed him ; and by what base means they suc- 
ceeded in enlisting these three unsuspecting youths 
into the Garibaldian ranks. 

Count James was wholly ignorant of the flight 
of the youth Achilles. The Marchioness Helena, 
the boy’s mother, did not for a long time know 
the fact of her son’s disappearance. Inconsolable 
and almost wild with grief, the poor lady hastened 
at once to Paris with her two daughters, to confer 
with her husband, who chanced to bo there at the 
time, on the best way of recovering their son. Oh ! 
what floods of tears and heart-crushing sorrow did 
not t':is terrible war cause to a countless number of 


394 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


Italian parents. Count James still retained a single 
•ray of hope. In a visit to Cavallasca he had been 
told that a hospital was there in which were a large 
number of Gari^ldians wounded in the action at 
San Fermo. He repaired immediately to the pres- 
ence of Mr. Moretti, ^vho was in charge of the in- 
stitution, but he could receive no information. 
He then hastened to the Grigioni manison, where 
were forty-five wounded; he sought everywhere, 
questioned everybody, but of Julian and Maso 
could find no tidings. The tprture and agony he 
suffered it were impossible to describe. 

They are dead, then, or prisoners ? ^’ 

‘‘ Ho one can tell,” was the answer. 

It was now one o’clock, and the heat of the sun 
was overpowering. The count wished to return to 
Como to resume his melancholy research. Be- 
sides, he had determined to effect the escape of 
Achilles from the Garibaldian legion, and that cir- 
cumstance, added to the rest, increased his anxiety 
and care. Before leaving Cavallasca he procured a 
peasant’s garb for the boy, and they then proceeded 
to the outskirts of San Fermo. There he had him 
get down from the carriage, gave him sufficient 
money for his present needs, and ordered him to 
pursue his road on foot toward the city and await 
him at the Crown Hotel. Promising to follow his 
instructions, they separated. 

That same evening the Garibaldians prepared to 
leave Como and embark in four steamers on the 
lake, on their way toward the neighborhood of 
Lecco, and go from thence to Bergamo, which it 


The Hunter of the Alps, 395 

appeared the Austrians were about to leave, after 
having evacuated Milan. Seeing them gathered in 
the fort, the count hastened thither and scanned 
every rank. But it was labor lost. Afflicted and 
depressed, he returned to his hotel, and found the 
little peasant awaiting him. 

“ Why,” asked Achilles, should we not try and 
pass by Varese ? Might it not happen that Julian, 
having lost his way with his comrade, passed by that 
side ? More than thirty of my regiment deserted 
down there.” 

Would that they were there!” ansvvered the 
count after a moment of hesitation. To-morrow 
morning early you will dress up in the excellent 
suit that I brought for Julian, and go out first 
and await me on the Varese road. But I fear we 
will have no better fortune than before.” 

Accordingly, in the morning Achilles opened Ju- 
lian’s trunk and decked himself out in the most 
admirable manner. He scarce knew himself after 
having doffed his rags. Starting out from the 
hotel unperceived, lie quietly took the Varese road. 
Shortly after the count rejoined him with his car- 
riage. It was on. the 6th of June, and about the 
very same hour that Julian set out for Milan with 
his host. If the uncle but knew that his nephew 
was so near him I 



CHAPTER L. 

IKSOMNIA. 

Erakcis Joseph, Emperor of Austria, having 
recently arrived at Verona to assume the supreme 
command of his army of Italy, learned by telegra- 
phic despatch the check received at Magenta. He 
sent orders to Marshal Giulay to evacuate Milan 
immediately, and, after having destroyed all the 
bridges, to concentrate his forces on the Mincio in 
the best possible order. The marshal executed the 
orders of his sovereign with a precision that com- 
pelled the acknowledgment and praise even of the 
enemy. Not only was this retreat conducted in 
accordance with all the rules of strategic art, but 
also with such combined movements that the allies 
stood amazed. 

During the retreat he held the enemy in such 
check that he only attacked his columns twice, 
and with very slight advantage, once on June 9,. at 
Milegnano, where, having been furiously assailed 
by the French columns of Baraguey cPHilliers, 
Roden’s Brigade repelled the assault with terrific 
slaughter ; and again on the 15th, at Castenedolo, 
where Rupprecht’s brigade drew the Garibaldians 

. m 


The Hunter of the Alps. 397 

into an unequal position, cut up a portion of them 
fearfully, and routed the rest at the bayonet’s 
point as far as Rezzatto. 

Julian arrived at Milan on the evening of the 
Gthof June. Adrian had a magnificent residence 
in that city, when his business or pleasure induced 
him to go thither. Having rested themselves fora 
short time, they went out together to enjoy the 
lovely spectacle presented by the streets and parks 
of the superb city. Every street was adorned with 
bunting, and flags waved from almost every house, 
while with the sea of transparencies and illumina- 
tions of every description one would have taken 
Milan for an enchanted city. 

The municipal authorities had, from the evening 
before, on the departure of the Austrian garrison, 
taken the reins of government in hand, and pla- 
carded throughout the city a proclamation announc- 
ing to the Milanese that they were about to change 
masters, and that instead of being subjects of the 
Austrian emperor, as they were for the past forty- 
four years, they were now to become subjects of 
the King of Sardinia. It will be readily, perceived 
that this pompous address was sufficient to turn 
the heads of all. 

Every one knows full well that the Lombards 
were but so much merchandise bought and sold 
long before ; and that once the Austrians were ex- 
pelled, the only freedom remaining to the Lom- 
bards was that of supplicating the conqueror to 
condescend to annex them to Piedmont. And the 
gentlemen of the municipal junta, happy and proud 


398 The Hunter of the Alps, 

in the enjoyment of the power of exercicing in the 
name of all this majestic act of civil liberty and Ita- 
lian independence, had already stamped on minis- 
terial paper their wery humble petition and de- 
spatched it to the camp. While awaiting the hap- 
py news that Milan was graciously received by the 
bounty of Victor Emmanuel and the favor of 
Erench bayonets, the citizens gave themselves up to 
rejoicing till they seemed to be on the verge of de- 
lirium. The people on the streets ran around 
wild with joy, the air was filled with cheering, ter- 
races, balconies, windows, galleries were decorated, 
the streets were covered with flowers, and every- 
body wore as many feathers and ribbons as would 
furnish a millinery shop. It was a kind of in- 
fernal carnival. jEsop’s frogs, on being granted 
their famous king, were not more comic. 

But Julian had something else to occupy his 
mind than these childish puerilities. He me- 
ditated on the space of time it would require for 
his mother and sister to arrive in Turin. Having 
heard that the Erench were within six or eight 
miles of the city, and that the Emperor ffapo- 
leon and King Victor Emmanuel were expected on 
the following morning, he concluded that he could 
likewise meet on the same day his beloved friends. 
Absorbed by this thought alone, he paid but seant 
attention to all this nightly rejoicing, and he spent 
a great part of the evening going round from hotel 
to hotel, to see if he might not find his mother. 

Adrian, his kind host, allowed him all the 
time and liberty he desired, occupied as he was 


The Himter of the Alps, 


399 


with his friends in all kinds of political plottings. 
On that same evening a circumstance occurred that 
caused the good, easy man to go almost wild with 
joy. In the i corridor ■ of the Marino palace ho 

chanced to meet a certain Charles one of the 

principal agents of Count Cavour. Grasping him 
warmly by the hand, the latter addressed him as 
commander (knight). 

‘‘ You are joking,” interrupted Adrian in a half- 
piteous tone. 

By no means,” answered the other gravely, as 
he looked at him with courtier glance. ‘‘The 
count lias placed you first on the list.” 

“ I am a knight ? ” 

“ Yes, a knight. Do you not think that you are 
worthy of the title ? ” 

“0 generous count! 0 peerless king.!” ex- 
claimed Adrian, quite beside himself with joy. 
Dashing through the corridor, he rushed in breath- 
less speed to a jeweller’s shop to procure the much- 
coveted cross, indicative of his order. 

But why be astonished at the unbounded joy of 
Adrian ? It was all Italy. And it must be further- 
more admitted that it was by no means difficult to 
satisfy the good man. But for the time being at least 
it is quite possible that he did not doubt that his 
Cross of St. Maurice would become for Italy what the 
cross generally was among the ancients, a reward 
for the good. 

In the midst of all this hubbub and popular re- 
joicing which deafened him beneath his window, 
Julian wrote three letters — one in all haste to his 


400 The Thmter of the Alps, 

mother, informing her of the place whereat he was 
staying ; another to Maso’s father, telling him all 
that had happened respecting his son ; and a third 
to Maso himself, enquiring as to his condition. 
Having sealed the last, he retired to his room and 
tried to sleep. 

But in vain. His heart was tossed like’ a tempest- 
beaten barque and could find neither quiet nor re- 
pose. The howling mob had subsided ; silence had 
again returned ; but no sleep would visit Julian 
resting on his downy pillow. For some time back 
he had been a stranger to that calm and regular 
rest, adorned with golden dreams, that distinguishes 
pure and innocent youth. Since he had by his 
folly bruised his mother’s heart, he did not draw a 
peaceful breath, his nights were nights of anguish, 
and his days were filled with the bitterness of re- 
morse. This night, which he deemeì his last of 
suffering, his chronic affliction was superseded by a 
mixture of two sentiments that greatly relieved his 
troubled heart — unbounded joy and gentle hesita- 
tion — which made sleep or rest to him impossible. 
His mind was occupied with what the morrow 
would bring forth. He yearned for the happy mo- 
ment when he would once more behold his beloved 
mother and sister. He was ravished at the thought. 
Yet, while thinking of the delight such a moment 
would afford, he trembled with a foolish fear. He 
did not know how he could, meet the first glance of 
his mother, which would cover him with confusion, 
almost annihilate him. What should he do on 
first seeing her ? Fly and embrace her, or shelter 


The Hwiter of the Alps, 


401 


himself behind Natalie ? Such were the thoughts 
that filled his throbbing brain and banished re- 
pose from his pillow. 

Finally, he concluded that the least embarrassing 
manner would be to wait till she had entered her 
apartments in the hotel, then quietly call Florence, 
and through him Natalie, and have her announce 
his presence and present him to his mother. So 
intense were his feelings on the various subterfuges 
and inventions that he wished to have recourse to, 
in order to conceal the shame of his folly, that he 
passed a night of piercing anguish and bathed his 
pillow in tears. 




CHAPTER LI. 

THE YOUNG HEKO. 

On the following morning, at an early hour, 
Adrian, with the most kindly courtesy, offered 
Julian a place on the balcony of a palace belonging 
to one of his friends, and looking on the Eran- 
ccsco courtyard, whence he would have an admirable 
view of the triumphal entry of the allied armies. 
But Julian, who preferred to go about wherever 
he chose, thanked him, and hastened with the 
surging throng to the Simple Arch, where the mu- 
nicipal authorities were assembled to receive the 
Emperor of the Erench, and present their humblest 
homage to the new king that fortune kindly granted 
the capital of Lombardy. Notwithstanding the 
sweltering heat, the crowd was so dense in the plaza 
and in all the adjacent streets that one could scarce 
move a foot. The flags of Erance and Savoy 
floated on every side. The entire city was en fete. 
All Milan was out of doors on the streets, bal- 
conVs, Avindows, and housetops, anxiously awaiting 
the appearance of the two monarchs. 

About nine o’clock General MacMahon, who had 
just been elevated to the dignity of marshal and 
402 


403 


The Hunter of the Alps, 

duke on the battle-field, arrived beneath tlie arch 
at the bead, of his serried legions, and announced, 
that the two sovereigns would not make their entry 
till the following morning. All. the lily bouquets, 
all the garlands of flowers, all the gorgeous crowns, 
all the laurels — the entire ovation that had been pre- 
pared was lavished on the marshal. Ilo advanced 
with a highly heroic bearing, in the midst of the 
most deafening cheers from the wild throngs who 
flung themselves madly around him, and it almost 
seemed a miracle that he was not smothered under 
the clouds of flowers and crowns which fell on him 
and his horse, Avho caricoled and danced along as 
if he too were conscious of the honor of carrying a 
marshal of France. 

Julian took intense delight in seeing file past the 
solid, massive regiments of French infantry, fresh 
from victory and begrimed with dust — the bat- 
talions of Turcos, the squadrons of Chasseurs 
d’Afrique, and the shining artillery. The crowd 
rushed under the necks of the horses and climbed 
on to the wagons and gun-carriages. 

Finally, Julian went to rejoin Adrian at the pa- 
lace, where he had left him, to inform him that ho 
intended to dine alone in the restaurant, and that, 
as he had to purchase a multitude of little articles 
for Maso, he could not return before evening. 

The good man at once consented, but, before al- 
lowing him to leave, he took Julian by the arm, 
and leading him into a large hall filled with distin- 
guished ladies and gentlemen, cried out in an al- 
most formidable voice : 


404 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


Ladies and gentlemen, I have the honor of pre- 
senting to you a devoted child of Italy — a hero of 
Varese — one of the Chasseurs of the Alps, who had 
the honor of drawing a trigger on the Croats.” 

^‘Ohl ah!” was heard all around, and Julian 
immediately found himself enveloped in a circle 
of gloved hands reached out to congratulate him. 
He had almost to defend himself against the en- 
thusiastic attentions lavished on him on the part 
of all, and especially the fairer sex. 

One can scarcely conceive the degree of infatuar 
cion to which political fanaticism was pushed at 
that period in Milan hy a large number of noble 
Italian ladies. Those who walked through the 
streets of the great Lombard city during those 
days know full well that we are not writing fable. 

We shall not say what became of Julian in 
presence of that foolish assault of exaggerated 
compliments. He was almost dumb from confusion. 
How handsome he is I ” 

‘‘How soldier- like he looks ! ” 

“But how delicate to carry a rifle.” 

“ Who is he ? Where does he come from ? ” 

“ Certainly he is of the nobility.” 

“And he has fought at Varese ?” 

“ Has he been made prisoner ? ” 

“ I wonder if he is Lombard ? ” 

Thus all spoke together. Adrian kept silent and 
cast about him a glance of complaisant satisfaction, 
delighted to have awakened such lively curiosity, 
while Julian, seeing himself the observed of all, 
felt as if he had been standing on thorns. 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


405 


But why does he not wear the national ribbon, 
the symbol of liberty ? demanded abruptly a pret- 
ty little miss. 

And plucking off hers, which was a knot of ele- 
gant satin, she turned towards Julian with the re- 
mark ; 

Permit an orphan of a martyr for Italy to de- 
corate you with her own hand,” and without 
further ceremony she attached it to his button-hole, 
while enthusiastic applause rose all around. 

Adrian then rose and said : 

Gentlemen, you have seen him, and I am happy 
to be able to inform you that it was I who have pre- 
served him to Italy.” 

^^But who is he? who is he?” asked every- 
body. 

^‘Mystery is the shield of the hero!” replied 
Adrian with the air of a regular mountebank. 
Then, bowing, he took Julian by the arm, passed 
with difficulty through the admiring circle, and 
disappeared. 



CHAPTER LIL 


A POLITICAL TALK, 

‘‘ What was all that fuss about ?’’ asked Julian 
as he strode rapidly along the hall with his guide. 
^^My dear sir, do not betray me.” 

Pshaw ! do not fear. The air itself shall never 
know your affairs or who yon are from me,” an- 
swered Adrian in a merry tone as he stepped out 
on the street. I simply desired to present you to 
the assembly, composed as it is of the very cream 
of our aristocracy, to afford me a satisfaction pecu- 
liar to myself. But do not be in the least troubled; 
I shall never, I repeat, breathe to any one the name 
of your family ; I give you the word of honor of a 
commander of the royal civil and military order of 
SS. Maurice and Lazarus. I just wished to amuse 
myself by exciting the enthusiasm of the entire 
company. But could you ever guess who was that 
charming young lady tha't placed on your breast 
that pretty rosette ? She is the daughter of the 

Marquis of ^,who died in exile for his country — 

an only daughter, and heiress to an enormous for- 
tune.” 

“ Were she the Empress of all the Russias, of 
Brazil, or of China, my dear sir, I beg you never 
406 


The Hunter of the Alps, 407 

again to put me to such a trial in presence of an 
assembly of persons none of whom I know.” 

But it appears to me that you are a little too 
severe. In point of fact, that assembly of persons, 
all eminently distinguished, only showered on you 
kindnesses and compliments. Be assured that, if I 
had but told who you are, they would have disputed 
with one another the honor of offering you the en- 
joyment of their hospitality, and would have placed 
their carriages at your disposal.” 

Oh ! this is not the place for me to form ac- 
quaintances ; 1 have something else to attend to 
just now.” 

‘‘Why, is it that, the countess, your mother, 
would feel aggrieved to see you mingling with the 
most illustrious portion of our nobility ? A lady 
like her, who has had the courage to send her son 
to fight for the independence of Italy, would be 
happy, I imagine, to see her son honored by the 
liberal aristocracy of Milan.” 

Julian smiled with a touch of disdain, which his 
friend doubtless took for a mark of approbation. 

“And I can confidently assure you,” he con- 
tinued, “ that if they are not liberals, liberals are 
nowhere, to be found. It is an acknowledged fact 
that they are the most Italian of any aristocracy in 
the Peninsula.” 

“ I have not the slightest doubt of that,” answer- 
ed Julian in an ironic tone. 

“In that sole union of ladies and gentlemen who 
received you with such marked honor there were 
fifteen noble ladies whose husbands were either im- 


4o8 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


prisoned or persecuted in a thousand various ways 
by the Austrians, on account of their love of Italy. 
As to the gentlemen present, they are every one of 
them black sheep, spotted by the police for the 
crime of loving the land on whose bosom they were 
born by the will of Providence.” 

‘‘ It is an intense love that love of country, is it 
not ? ” 

‘^Yes, very intense indeed. A love that mani- 
fests itself by such bold and splendid acts as to be 
stamped in the soul and then propagated, through 
the interposition of vile sheets, against the Govern- 
ment ; to buy arms and distribute them to a people 
in a time of revolution ; to keep up a secret cor- 
respondence with emigrants ; to concur by large 
offerings to the collections that were made at Turin, 
whether to erect allegorical monuments or to strike 
medals in honor of Cavour after the Congress of 
Paris, or to defend with cannon the fortress of 
Alessandria, and so forth to the end. This little 
dumpy man with the gray beard and the golden 
spectacles, who at first received you so courteously, 
has spent, perhaps, not less than fifty thousand 
dollars in raising volunteers ; that other attenuated 
little individual, with the huge pen perched on his 
ear, has paid for the armament and equipment of 
more than fifty men ; and that lady of an uncer- 
tain age has sent her two children to enlist in the 
army of Piedmont ; and that plump little bru- 
nette, with all the fuss and feathers, has given up 
her husband ! That young girl who fixed the rib- 
bon on your breast imposed on her intended, who 


The Huìiter cf the Alps. 409 

is enormously wealthy and singularly handsome 
the condition, in order to win her hand, of entering 
at once into a regiment of light infantry to fight 
for Victor Emmanuel and the enemies of Italy. 
What do you think of that ? What city of Emelia, 
or Tuscany, or the kingdom of Naples could furnish 
similar examples of ardor for national indepen- 
dence ? And think you that the dire, obstinate, re- 
lentless war that we have so long waged against the 
House of Hapsburg is to be accounted for nothing ? 
Think you for a passing moment that little 
physical courage was required to resent, with Ea- 
detzky’s rod resting over one, the wanton insults 
by the archdukes and the emperor himself when 
they swooped down on us in our defenceless hour ? 
AVben they came to stay, in theatre and hall, and 
in public promenade ? To remain in their country 
residences, even in the midst of the most rigorous 
winter, while the court was prodigal of festivals 
and the palace -actually got tired of invitations, 
and the imperial and royal chamberlains ran 
like lackeys, going up and down the stairs of all 
those hotels which possessed any inmates ? Well, 
then, imagine our great and heroic troubled lords 
had the sublime courage to compete with the his- 
tory of the past.” 

‘^Let us see,” he could answer, '‘can we 
rush to the end at tandem? You, Mr. Adrian, 
who think yourself a lion ; for what purpose have 
you become such a liberal as to send your only 
feoii to the slaughter-pen, giving over your gen- 
tle and pious Clelia, his mother, to the most 


410 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


inconsolable sorrow ? You would have licked 
the boots of all the Austrian marshals, and 
particularly of the archdukes and those of the em- 
peror, if you did not dread being sneered at. He 
would have carried his head high, if wearing an 
imperial cross, but that he feared being misre- 
presented. You would have suffered almost any- 
thing to obtain the title of count or baron that his 
Catholic majesty would have yielded you, if you did 
not fear being lampooned either in prose or 
verse. And you boast of this heroic courage, 
worthy of epic story ! You see that your own mode 
of conduct is not even worthy of comedy. But 
you do not possess the mark of nobility ; you are 
not an aristocrat. To-morrow, or after to-mor- 
row, you will bo flung a title, as you justly deserve ; 
a great recompense is awaiting you. The heroic 
courage that you will be pleased to exalt, after 
your own, which is acknowledged of all, is fast 
spreading, is shared in by many opulent patricians 
enjoying high titles, who have paraded their love 
of Italy in every corner of the kingdom, especially 
in Milan, and consequently their execration of the 
House cf Austria.’’ 

Our great lords summoned this sublime and 
heroic courage, worthy of epic story ! ” 

Had Julian been younger, less bold, not so skilled 
in worldly affairs, and better versed in current 
matters, he could make answer to this poser anent 
the physical courage of the Milanese and their fol- 
lowing. Believe me, it is not known who has 
infused this love and hate into their hearts, of 


The Hunter of the Alps, 41 1 

wliicli so much has be^n said. On both sides 
persons were deceived through fear ; yes, as your- 
self, they were afraid of intrigues and midnight 
plottings, and did not dare to let the light of day 
flash upon the results of their secret councils. Be- 
hold how your boasting liberals, as a general rule, 
can grow cowards ; and the war which they waged 
against Austria proves that they were cowards. An 
anonymous letter ordered them to leave the city at 
the moment the emperor and empress entered it. 

And why did they leave ? 

Because they were cowards I 

It occurred to their minds, through the medium 
of a third party, that it would not be prudent to 
^set their foot within the circle that had been 
marked out by tlie Archduke Maximilian. 

And why ? 

Eor fear of some chronic scandal, of some slan- 
derous piece of buffoonery, of some low piece of 
doggerel that might perchance find its way into the 
Piedmontese press. Such was the courage that 
ruled the hour, and, in order that nothing would be 
wanting respecting this sort of courage, lest it may 
lack the seal of a dazzling heroism, let us add the 
secretly written or verbal excuses that your Paladins 
and Amazons have so frequently addressed to the 
Austrian princes, the stolen visits that they tremb- 
lingly paid them, the abject courtesies, the secret 
protestations of fidelity, of devotion, of serfdom, 
and, in short,. the secret favors that they obtained 
from the house of Ilapsburg, which, in the excess 
of its benevolence, royally pardons its peculiar 


412 


The Hunter of the Alps» 


enemies. 0 Knight Adrian ! if one could only re- 
count all that he knows, and know all that is gene- 
rally ignored, the heroic courage of your Hercu- 
les and your Pallas in petticoats would appear 
really worthy of the story of Jean-le-Sot ” and 
the poem of Michael Cervantes ! 

But Julian was not capable of holding similar lan- 
guage, and we would be amazed if he did hold 
it, for a multitude of obligations prevented him 
from so doing. He contented himself wiih shrug- 
ging his shoulders at Adrian’s meaningless stupidi- 
ties, and, brusquely taking leave of him, went to 
purchase a few simple articles for Maso, and then 
he made the rounds of the hotels once more to see 
if his mother and sister had arrived. 

Without the piercing preoccupation of mind that 
agonized him, it were difficult to conceive what 
would become of this youth, alone, unbefriended, 
and inexperienced, with his prepossessing person 
and handsome face, and pockets bursting with 
money, in the hands of one who, to satiate his 
personal pride, would have made war on God, in 
the midst of a city given up to a wild saturnalia. 
Certain it is that his strength of character and the 
force of the salutary maxims that he had imbibed 
in youth were never in greater peril. To the seduc- 
tive hopes and impoisoned examples were added the 
private suggestions of his host, who absolutely 
yearned to pervert Julian into an inveterate libe- 
ral, and stood amazed on beholding him so in- 
different to politics, so ticklish where the interests 
of the Pope were concerned, and so' trustless in 


413 


The Hunter of the Alps. 

the copious Bmalhtalk which issued from the lips 
of his friend, and which he flung with sardonic 
grin at the Piedmontese and the vain hopes they 
cherished. Julian became by degrees a mystery to 
ihe mind of Adrian to such a degree that the 
good, easy man was jpuzzled. He could but say, 
‘^What a queer Garibaldian this is 




CHAPTER un. 

AN E AGEE QUEST. 

Befoke beginning bis search for his mother and 
sister in the most fashionable hotels in the city, 
Julian conceived the idea of purchasing a more 
exquisite suit of clothes, for he was singularly fasti- 
dious ill the matter of dress, and he had a natural 
leaning to follow fashion, in so much as frequently 
to elicit his mothers rebuke. The suit he wore at 
the time we speak of was not to his mind a la 
mode, and he resolved to change it for one more 
fashionable and well-fitting. 

Julian accordingly entered a large dry-goods 
store and bought two excellent suits for himself 
and Maso, and then purchased such a number of 
minor articles that he left a thousand francs in the 
store. 

Having made his purchases, he repaired to his 
apartments, and having attached his tri-color rib- 
bon to his buttonhole, he ordered his carriage and 
began his peregrinations. 

Notwithstanding the iiunc'ilious manner in 
which he was decked out, and in spite of his efforts 
to appear gay and jaunty, Julian from time to 
414 


The Hunter of the Alps, 415 

time suffered a melancholy shudder, and a pallor 
superseded the blush that mantled his cheek. 
His heart was tempest-tossed and in anguished 
agony ; the breath of a living death vibrated through 
his frame. He grew passionately impatient in the 
carriage, leaned from side to side, fitfully doffed 
his hat and put it on again, pressing convulsively 
in his gloved hands the gold-headed cane which he 
bore. He drove to the Eoyal Hotel, and trem- 
blingly asked in French, which he spoke with ver- 
nacular fluency, as he wished to pass for a foreign- 
er, if the Countess of had as yet arrived 

with her daughter and suite. 

Ho, sir,” he was dryly answered. Frozen by this' 
cold response, he resumed his way toward the City 
Hotel, asked the same question, and was returned 
the same answer. He received no further informa- 
tion at the Great Britain Hotel, at the Venice 
Hotel, or at the widely-known Mourio Hotel. It 
being near noontime, he returned for dinner to tho 
table of his host, where a group of French officers 
were assembled. During the meal the subject of 
conversation was the great battle of Magenta, in 
which all had been engaged. Julian was amazed on 
hearing of the Piedmontese cowards and runaways 
denounced by these Frenchmen — such cowardly 
cowards, who, when they saw the smoke of battle, 
fled from the positions they were ordered to hold, 
and evacuating them, weakened the hands and sub- 
verted the plans of Canrobert. Dinner bemg over, 
a French officer, stroking his huge moustache with 
pompous ostentation, observed, After all, these 


41 6 The Hunter of the Alps, 

heroes would perform prodigies had they been but 
led by our generals^ They had uoue of their 
own.’^ • ♦ 

Continuing his way, Julian ordered to be driven 
to the Cross of Malta Hotel, to the Keichmann, and 
to the Hotel of St. Mark. In neither place was 
his mother to be found. At the Hotel of St. Mark 
he had been told that many distinguished persons 
were expected on the following day. On returning 
to the house where Adrian was staying he wrote 
another letter to Maso, and then retired to rest. 
He omitted through inculpable neglect, or through 
the ignorance of his eoaehman, to make en- 
quiries at the European Hotel, whieh is one of the 
most fashionable and frequented in the city. 

Why did he not proceed there on the morrow ? 
On that day the Emperor of the Freneh and the 
King of Sardinia entered the city at so early an 
hour that one-half of the population were deprived 
of the pleasurable curiosity of seeing them. 

Our Chasseur of the Alps, a prey to curiosity, 
too, was desirous of beholding the two monarchs, 
and lost a certain lapse of time in front of the 
Busea Palace, where Victor Emmanuel had deter- 
mined to stay, and before the Villa Bonaparte, 
where Kapoleon III. sojourned. He retook with 
his coachman the round of the second-order hotels 
of the city, and still he forgot to call at the Euro- 
pean. 

Demoralized by his ill-success, the unhappy Ju- 
lian perambulated the streets, ruminating on a 
thousand measures, and on every means calculated 


The Hunter of the Alps. 417 

to extricate him from his present embarrassment. 
But he knew not what means to adopt. He could 
not and wished not to abandon Maso during the 
period of his convalescence^ and he could not run 
to Turin, in accordance with his desire. He spent 
the main part of the night in writing affectionate 
letters to his mother and sister, addressing them to 
Turin and the home whence he had foolishly fled. 
He wished to inform them that he was safe and 
well, and to convey a true idea of his actual condi- 
tion. 

On Thursday, the 9th of June, toward midday, 
ho stood in the city plaza in the midst of a serried 
throng, who shrunk from the rays of a merciless 
sun, to gaze at the emperor and king, surrounded 
by their staff, and hastening to the cathedral to as- 
sist at the Te Deum” chanted for the recent 
victory. Behind Julian stood a common crowd, 
who uttered all sorts of nonsense on late events. 
One of them commented on the recent proclama- 
tion to the Italian people on the occasion of the 
entry of the Franco-Sardinians into the capital of 
Lombardy. 

^^Oh! here they come — here they cornel” rose 
from the surging throng. 

The two sovereigns, preceded by the imperial 
and royal guards and the Cuirassiers, shining with 
gold and burnished steel, advanced on their richly- 
caparisoned steeds, smothered under a cloud of 
flowers. 

IIow grand they look ! ” observed an indivi- 
dual by Julian’s side, '"What a martial bearing 


41 8 The Hunter of the Alps. 

and Tvliat an imperturbable figure distinguish the 
Emperor of the French ! ” 

‘‘And Victor Emmanuel, how soldier-like he 
looks!” 

“ But trust him not till you know him better ; he 
is ambitious,” observed a venerable, gray-bearded 
man by our hero’s side. “Charles Albert came 
among us as a galantuomo ^ and how did he leave us?” 

“ Like a whipped spaniel,” answered a little hol- 
low-cheeked, attenuated individual. “My land 
has ever been an indigestible morsel to all who 
wish to grab it from the Austrian plate.” 

Cheers and vivas rent the air, hats and handker- 
chiefs were wildly waved, as the monarch s dashed 
by. As the throng dispersed in their hurried rush 
toward the cathedral Julian heard his name called 
out in a shrill voice, and, being simultaneously 
tapped on the shoulder by a delicate gloved hand, 
he turned round excitedly, and “Oh ! ” 



CHAPTER LTV. 


BEATEICE. 

The city residence that Julian occupied to- 
gether with his mother and sister during the win- 
ter is a small palace of elegant architecture in the 
Sansovino style, its left wing joining a group of 
houses looking on a beautiful street. One of the 
fa9ades, where opens the grand door of honor, looks 
on a plaza and is opposite to a church ; the other 
forms an angle with a solitary but not unpleasant 
street. On the outside this hotel appears black- 
ened and neglected, as are almost all the olden 
palaces of the Italian nobility, who are more par- 
ticular in adorning the interior with every con- 
ceivable luxury than in repairing the outer walls. 

At the corner of this street, which runs in a ser- 
pentine way past the palace, is situate the shop of a 
certain Bernard, a man of irreproachable character, 
very active and skilful in his line of business, 
and highly estimated by all who know him. Eor a 
long period this man worked for Julian’s family, 
and during the preceding summer he had in a 
marked degree won the young man’s esteem by the 
activity, zeal, and talent that he displayed in re- 


420 The Ilimter of the Alps. 

pairing some articles of furniture. Accordingly, 
Julian was accustomed whenever he passed the 
good man’s residence to call in and examine the va- 
rious pieces of work that he so artistically wrought. 

But what attracted Julian more than anything 
else, especially after his return from the country, 
was the magnificent Japanese camellias that 
Beatrice, the daughter of Bernard, had planted. 

So pleased was the countess on thinking that 
Julian expended his pocket-money in so agree- 
able a manner that his allowance was increased 
from the month of November. But it chanced 
that toward the close of that month Bernard, who 
was a cabinet-maker by trade, was called on to 
perform some piece of work. The countess ad- 
dressed to him a few words of condolence on ac- 
count of the recent death of his worthy wife. The 
artisan thanked her in a few words that were rather 
ambiguous, and concluded by saying: 

am happy to observe, countess, that your son 
entertains such high esteem for my lovely daughter 
Beatrice.” 

Leonie did not at first pay great attention to the 
observation, but she subsequently pondered deeply 
on it. 

A fortnight afterward two of her lady friends 
chanced to pay her a visit. The visit, however, 
seemed to have been inspired by a special motive. 
They had something to tell her confidentially. It 
was the fact that Julian seemed to frequent the 
cabinet-maker’s shop too much, and to pay a great 
deal of attention to his daughter, Beatrice, who. 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


421 


truth to tell, was one on whom nature had rained 
her choicest gifts. Julian, they insisted, should 
not he permitted to associate with persons so infe- 
rior to him in station or afford room for the gossip 
of evil tongues. 

This unexpected intelligence, which immediately 
flung a flood of light on the remark dropped from 
the lips of Bernard, so pained the countess that she 
ordered Julian on that same day to visit Bernard’s 
no more. 

This order, given in a dry, supercilious tone, 
ruffled Julian’s hasty temper somewhat, and he 
half-sneeringly replied : 

All right.” 

The countess, at once growing sorry for the harsh 
manner in which she had spoken, advanced to- 
ward Julian and fondly carressed him, saying ; 

‘‘My dear hoy, how comes it that for the past 
two months you have éntirely forgotten your mo- 
ther, that all your gifts and attentions have been 
bestowed on Natalie ? Why never bring; any ca- 
mellias to me ?” 

Julian smiled good-naturedly, but made no an- 
swer. 



CHAPTER LV. 

BEBNAKD. 

Ok a Monday morning in the month of Decem- 
ber Bernard asked to see the countess for a few 
moments on an affair of supreme importance. 

On being admitted to her presence she said, with 
stately gravity : 

‘^Talk to me frankly, and if I can in any way 
oblige you, it shall be done.” 

‘^Madame, you are doubtless aware,” began the 
artisan in a timid and embarrassed tone, ‘Hhat 
my daughter Beatrice is the very quintessence of 
perfection — at least so I am told by everybody, es- 
pecially the good sisters who are her tutors. She 
is so gentle, so good that — well, it is not for me to 
say, but she is unequalled.” 

‘‘ Yes, indeed, I do not doubt that in the least. 
I have frequently been told of her many excellent 
qualities, and I am exceedingly happy to know that 
you have such an exemplary and beautiful daugh- 
. ter.” 

“ Well, here is what I wish to remark ; Beatrice 
is, as you know, of a marriageable age, and she is 
engaged to a young gentleman of surpassingly fine 
422 


The Hunter of the Alps, 423 

qualities. His father, who is in easy circumstances, 
gives his consent, and the entire affair is arranged 
to the satisfaction of both families. I wish it to 
come off as eoon as possible, in order to bring 
about the cessation of a state of things that would 
be an inconvenience for you as well as for me.” 

Please explain what you mean. What is the 
matter ? ” ashed the countess somewhat excitedly. 

‘‘I shall immediately tell you, but I do so con- 
fidentially.” 

Well, let us hear it,” interrupted the lady on 
the tip-toe of impatience. 

“ The young Count Julian — ” 

My son 1 ” again interrupted the lady. 

Do not be so impatient, I implore you there 
is no very grave difficulty in the affair. It is but 
the simple fact that the young count has given me 
to understand that^ — It is but foolish puerilities — 
boyish freaks. But, as I have just said, he has 
given me to understand that it would pain him 
deeply to see Beatrice give her hand to another, 
and—” 

Why, you surely cannot be talking seriously !” 
exclaimed the countess in a half-angry tone. 

Why, certainly I am. And more than that, I 
now give you my word of honor that I am about to 
tell you what Julian repeated to me many a time. 
When my daughter Beatrice was suffering from a 
severe attack of illness, consequent on the death of 
her beloved sister, he took me kindly by the hand 
and said : 

‘‘ "Do not be in the least troubled. I shall take 


424 The Hunter of the Alps, 

care of the angelic Beatrice. ^ When 1 attain my 
majority I shall render her happy. You will see 
that I will make her an accomplished little coun- 
tess.’ ” 

0 the mad-cap creature ! ” exclaimed Leonie, 
every nerve vibrating with angry emotion. 

/‘Yes, madame, he has time and again used 
similar expressions, which, after all, may be no 
more than the outcome of a generous heart.” 

“Come, Bernard, tell me frankly the truth re- 
garding the entire affair. Julian, -then, continues 
to frequent your house ? ” 

“No ; happily he has not come for quite a num- 
ber of days back.” 

“It were not well for him that it was otherwise. 
But, tell me, does he still pay his attentions to Bea- 
trice ? ” 

“ That is precisely where the shoe pinches. He 
never enters the house that his first enquiry is not 
for Beatrice, and if she be not in the room he has 
her sent for immediately, and they promenade the 
garden plucking and culling camellias and other 
flowers.” 

“Oh ! how unfortunate,” cried the countess, as 
she buried her face for a moment in her hands. 

“ And, madame, as you may readily conceive, I 
looked at this entire affair with an evil eye.” 

“ And this is the place, whence all these camellias 
have come! Who could have thought it?” she 
continued, dazed with surprise. “ Now,” she re- 
sumed, “ if the impertinent rascal dares ever again 
to set foot within your door, kick him out without 


The Hunter of the Alps, 425 

any ceremony. By so doing you will confer an in- 
finite obligation on me. Belieye me that I shall 
soon bring him to his wits.” 

Oh ! no, I could not for a moment entertain 
such a thought, but I. simply beg leave to remark 
that in the interest of all parties the marriage of 
Beatrice should be hastened. Not possessing a 
great deal of this world’s goods, the only obstacle 
to that much-desired consummation is tliat I have 
not at the present the dowry I would wish to be- 
stow on her.” 

Act as if you had it already in your hand. 
You shall get it immediately, but on the sole con- 
dition that you will hasten the marriage of your 
daughtér, .and thereby preclude the possibility of 
any further difiiculties.” 

Here .the conversation rested, but from that hour 
the soul of Leonie was deeply troubled. She restrain- 
ed her indignation, however, and until the follow- 
ing Thursday so acted that Julian had not the 
slightest suspicion of what had occurred. He re- 
marked, nevertheless, a cold, repelling air on his 
mother’s countenance, as did also his sister ; but, as 
people cannot be always in sprightly humor, he 
paid no great attention to this circumstance. 

We must not, however, think that the countess 
believed that her son would do anything of a serious 
nature against her wishes. She was perfectly con- 
scious of his noble nature, kind heart, bright in- 
telligence, and youthful piety, so rare in our .time ; 
but she feared lest he might afford material for 
gossip, or make himself the laughing-stock of the 


426 The Hu 7 iter of the Alps, 

town. Still, the yery thought that Julian might 
possibly contract an alliance unworthy of him, 
the heir to an illustrious name and an immense 
fortune, caused all her aristocratic instincts to re- 
volt. Several offers had already been made to the 
Countess Leonie for her son from some of the most 
distinguished families of the nobility. These offers 
she neither accepted nor rejected definitely, for 
she wished to wait ; but it must be confessed that 
she most inclined to the eldest daughter of the 
Marchioness Helena, mother of Achilles, who has 
been already introduced to the reader’s notice. 

Her brother-in-law, the Count James, was de- 
lighted at the idea, and the parents of the young 
lady were among the most estimable in the land. 
The mere thought that these cherished hopes were 
to be so rudely dashed to the ground caused 
Leonie to tremble with indignation. This lady, so 
perfect in every other regard, was a prey to one 
shortcoming— namely, giving way to a hasty and 
haughty temper. 




CHAPTEK LVI. 

THE STOKM. 

The last time tliat Julian had entered the cabi- 
net-maker’s shop before having been forbidden by 
his mother to do so he observed an exquisite bunch 
of camellias almost ready to bloom. They were so 
attractive and pleasing to the eye that he deter- 
mined to have them, cost what it might, as soon 
as they would bloom, to present them to his mother. 
He therefore awaited the proper moment, and on 
the following Thursday — that is, three days after 
Bernard’s interview with the Countess Leonie, of 
which, as already remarked, he had no knowledge — 
he hastened to the little garden and returned with 
the bunch of flowers. 

He skipped through the carriage-door and rush- 
ed up the stairs at break-neck speed. It chanced, 
however, that at the moment he came out of the 
aforesaid shop that Leonie, whose apartments did 
not look on this side, was passing through a room 
that looked directly on this street. She perceived 
Julian hastily come out of Bernard’s door with à 
bunch of flowers in his hands. 

Seized with an access of anger, she turned round 
and re-entered her apartment. Natalie was per- 
• 427 


428 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


forming on the piano in an adjoining room. The 
countess had just seated herself by a work-table 
when Julian came in, and with his handsome face 
beaming with smiles he approached his mother and 
graciously presented her with the bouquet of flowers, 
saying : These three camellias are so exquisitely 
beautiful, as you see, that they are worth all I have 
ever given to Natalie. Accept them from me.” 

The countess seized them haughtily, and, looking 
at her son for a moment with withering glance, 
made answer in the most ironic manner : 

‘‘ They are beautiful, are they indeed ? Oh ! 
yes, remarkably beautiful. Look you what I do 
with them.” And as she spoke she, with marked 
deliberation, flung them out of the window. 

‘^Why do you do that ?” exclaimed Julian in 
amazement. 

Why do I do that ? You have the audacity to 
ask me why ? Do you think that I do not know 
where you got them ?” 

But my only object was to procure those for 
you, as ycu expressed a desire to have me present 
them to you,” murmured Julian, nearly dumb- 
founded. 

That I desired you to present to me ? Do you 
think that I do not know all ? Leave the room at 
once, and do not dare to appear before me again.” 

‘‘But—” 

^^None of your huts; do you imagine that I 
would allow you for an instant to dictate to me ? 
I have told you to leave my presence, and I tell you 
so again.” 


The Hunter of the Alps. 429 

Julian remained petrified for a moment as he 
looked in his mother’s face, whose indignant glance 
made him turn pale. 

For an instant Julian tried to reason with his 
mother, but it was of no avail, and again ordering 
him out of the room, she haughtily told him that 
he no longer possessed her love or affection. She 
knew not that this expression, revolting as coming 
from a mother’s lips, entered Julian’s heart like a 
poisoned barb. He quit his mother’s presence and 
returned to her apartments no more. 

If things had remained at this stage, they could . 
be easily settled ; for that mother’s influence over 
her son was such that after the first burst of indig- 
nation had passed away he would become, by one 
kind word, as docile as a child and love her with his 
former love. Had Leonie bu t been able to control her- 
self, she would have healed the wound she inflicted 
on Julian’s tender soul; but she knew not how either 
to conquer or moderate her hasty temper. Scarce 
had Julian withdrawn from her presence than she 
ordered her carriage and drove to the residence of 
her brother-in-law, the Count James, where she 
gave full vent to her pent up indignation. 

Hor did it require a great cause to excite the an- 
ger of Count James. One may, therefore, easily 
imagine the excess of his wrath on hearing this mo- 
ther so violently accuse a son that she had always 
lauded and defended. Having felt fully convinced 
that Julian was formally engaged to Beatrice, the 
countess earnestly entreated his guardian to sever 
the bond at once, and requested him to employ. 


430 The Htinter of the Alps, 

if necessary, the most rigorous means. A in’ey to 
the intemperate promptings of anger, of fear, and 
pride, she exaggerated the entire affair in the most 
unmeasured terms. 

After her son had fled from home and enlisted 
in the Garibaldian ranks the unhappy countess was 
wont to repeat, in order to mitigate her anguish of 
lieart, that she subsequently claimed for herself 
the right to punish Julian, inasmuch as she feared 
that his uncle, in the excess of his anger, would act 
too severely with him. And indeed she but spoke 
the truth ; but this had happened too late. 

A few moments after the countess had returned 
to her apartments a servant of Count James entered 
Julian’s room and informed him that his uncle 
wished to see him without delay. 

Julian, stretched on the sofa, was at the moment 
meditating on the manner in which he had been 
treated by his mother. He at once arose, ar- 
ranged his toilet, and ordered his carriage. The 
hostler informed him with hesitation and respect 
that his mother, on returning, had forbidden him 
to allow Julian to have anything more to do with 
his ponies and carriage. 

‘‘ She has !” quietly answered Julian, in a tone 
of subdued anger. 

He accordingly walked on foot to his uncle’s 
residence. It is not necessary for us to mention 
in detail the severe manner in which Count James 
rebuked him. When Julian, who dreaded his 
uncle intensely, learned from the count that his 
mother had come to denounce him, he became livid 


The Hunter of the Alps, 431 

with rage, and ia a loud and angry tone exclaimed : 
‘•'She is ail odious • tyrant, a slanderer, and nota 
mother ! ” 

The tl'reatening and terrific tempest that tliese 
impetuous and ill advised observations drew down 
on I is devoted head turned him pale and stopped 
Ills pulse for a beat or two. Nevertheless, he de- 
nied with vehement indignation and ostentatious 
contempt the accusation of. ever harboring the idea 
of making Beatrice his wife. He did not deny 
that he had acted disobediently toward his mother, 
but he was able to explain the motive that induced 
him so to act. But the Count James, livid with 
rage, would listen no longer, whereupon his 
nephew burst into tears. When the count, in con- 
clusion, remarked that he would appeal to the law 
if Julian would thenceforward dare to frequent 
the cabinetmaker’s shop, the boy experienced a 
thrill of horror which almost prostrated him. He 
turned on his heel suddenly, and silently passed 
the door, indignant, sorry, and pale as death. 



CHAPTER LVIL 


SOME exp'lajstatioks. 

Aetee having spent three weeks in the endeavor 
to hasten the marriage of Bernard’s daughter, and 
having given her the dowry required, the countess 
exerted her every energy to bring about a reconcilia- 
tion with her son Julian. She sought to mollify his 
mistaken resentment by bestowing on him certain 
presents; but, after pondering on the promptings 
of said resentment and duty, the inconsiderate boy 
rejected the advances of his mother. Believing him- 
self to be not only denounced but slandered by her, 
he considered that he was worthy a weightier debt 
of reparation than insignificant gifts and laughter- 
provoking trifles. Having met all the kind ad- 
vances of his loving mother with a sombre and semi- 
reprehensible taciturnity, he repelled all her conci- 
liatory efforts. Then ceased all the melancholy ter- 
giversations, doubts, and ill-conceived anger of the 
countess, who attributed the foolish conduct, inur- 
banity, and ill-judged treatment of her son toward 
her to the terrible wound that had been inflicted 
on his affections. She firmly believed that Julian’s 
heart was captured by love of her whom he was 
sternly forbidden evermore to revisit. It were 
432 


The Hunter of the Alps. 433 

impossible to describe the pain consequent on this 
thought. 

It will therefore not be wondered at that the 
singular conduct of Julian was of a nature calculate 
ed to give rise to this idea in his mother’s mind, 
and to arouse the suspicions of his guardian. No^- 
body, not even the canon, Don Egidio, Julian’s pro- 
fessor, knew, nor did he suspect, the determinate 
ing motive of this domestic discord. The countess 
concealed it with womanly jealousy; his uncle, the 
Count James, did likewise ; and Julian, by a senti*» 
ment of self-love and a respect for the house he 
represented, feared nothing more than to witness 
a revealing of the boyish passion whereof he was 
accused. Natalie suffered much on observing the 
fact that her mother allowed her not to ask the 
cause of her singular severity toward her poor bro- 
ther Julian. lie himself always endeavored to 
turn the subject of conversation when its determi, 
nating motives were brought into question. This 
inscrutable mystery so cruelly tortured her heart 
that her soul was consumed by agony and her 
nights were passed in tears. 

But why did not Julian reveal to his mother tho 
inner pulsations of his heart in affording evi- 
dence of that innocence he so vehemently proclaim- 
ed in the presence of Don Egidio ? Because with 
boyish pride he did not consent to humiliate him- 
self ; because he wished and ever insisted on, with 
child-like poutishness, reparation for the uncalled- 
for insult he. had received from his mother; be- 
cause he wished to be restored to his uncle’s good 


434 Himtcr of tJie Alps. 

graces and be re-esfcablislied in liis mother’s affec- 
tions. 

The countess deemed it inappropriate to con- 
descend so much. She labored under the im- 
pression that her dignity and maternal rights were 
compromised ; that Julian was wrong, and that she 
was right. From thence issued all the misunder- 
standings and the cold chain of silence that en- 
sued. 

May Heaven preserve us from impressing on the 
minds of our readers that the Countess Leonie was 
wrong and that her son was right ! In presence of 
the tribunal of honor and conscience, the countess 
acted in accordance with the instincts of a Christian 
mother, wisely and prudently, but unhappily she 
was deceived as to the means adopted. But, oh ! 
who is he who has never been deceived ? 

At all events, the unspeakable love of the Count- 
ess Leonie is the most satisfying excuse for her 
conduct. How can we justify her hastiness, her 
anger, and vehement indignation with which she 
treated her son Julian ? As to the severe cpnduct 
which she evinced, we are bound to observe that 
Julian’s ungratefulness vaulted all bounds and put 
his mother’s patience to the rudest test. We have 
already spoken of it, and we now wish to consign 
it to oblivion ; but, truth to tell, the youth wished, 
through love of his mother, all his faults to be 
known. We shall therefore cite a few passages 
from certain memoirs communicated to us : 

After my uncalled-for refusal of the pin which 
my mother so kindly presented me with, and which 


435 


The Himter of the Alps, 

I. contemptuously flung into Natalie’s lap, after 
having likewise refused to have anything to do with 
the ponies that had been given back to me and to 
accompany my mother when she went out driving, 
I so affronted her I scarce can comprehend how 
she can tolerate, with her irritable temper, my pre- 
sence for a passing moment. I no longer came 
down from my rooms to breakfast with my mother ; 
at evening I took leave without kissing her, nor 
did I ever afterward dine with her, unless 
we accidentally met at table. When we did 
meet I remained at table for a few brief moments, 
and not only did I affect not to perceive her but 
shut my eyes to her presence, and refused un- 
ceasingly all the delicacies which she had stealthily 
presented to me. When, through motherly love, 
she secretly placed the most palatable morceaux on 
my plate, I indignantly refused it. On observing 
my lack of fliial love a tinge of melancholy 
mantled her sorrow-laden brow ; she brushed from 
her eye a furtive tear, but still did not break 
silence. 

As I ceased to exchange words with her, and 
but answered her in the most monosyllabic mariner 
or by abrupt gesticulation, my mother appealed 
to Natalie whenever she found a chance to dò me a 
stolen and motherly favor. Frequently she in- 
sisted, through my sister, on my approaching the 
sacraments; but I refused, telling her since she 
had made me what I was she had no right to com- 
jilain of what I was. My sister cried, but I, en- 
deavoring to dissipate her pain, laughed at her 


43^ The Hunter of the Alps, 

tears with brotherly love, petted and caressed her, 
tangling my hand in her wealth of hair. I loved 
her no less than she loved me, and yet I had, un- 
knowingly, the cruelty to martyrize her, as I did 
also my mother. 

In the month of February, on the occasion of 
the recurrence of my birthday, my mother present- 
ed me with a magnificent writing-desk, the best 
that money could procure. I indignantly returned 
it, observing that I was not in the habit of accept- 
ing presents from those who rejected mine — an ill- 
judged allusion to the bunch of camellias that I 
lovingly presented to my mother, and which she 
angrily flung out the window. She immediately 
entered my apartments ; her face was livid with 
subdued anger and her eyes welled with tears. 
Making an unsuccessful effort to conceal her vio- 
lent love for me, she half-timidly approached me and 
patted me on the cheek. Blinded by resentment, I 
grossly repelled that embrace as if it were the em- 
brace of a viper. Pretending to be indisposed, I 
did not come down from my apartments during the 
whole day. My sister told me that this insult, 
though unmeant on my part, so affected her that 
■ she was prostrated for several days on a bed of 
sickness. 

On a certain evening early in the month of 
Mareh my sister came to me and told me that on 
the following morning herself and my mother pur- 
posed performing their religious duties, and that 
accordingly she earnes'tly desired to bring about a 
reconciliation between us. I smiled sardonically. 


The Hunter of the Alps. 437 

and, in order to change the subject, reverted to 
other matters. I was not, of course, adverse to a 
reconciliation; indeed, I intensely desired it, but 
on the condition that my mother would afford 
ample satisfaction ; for sorrow had turned my 
heart into a living hell, and I was unable longer to 
bear my weight of woe. 

'^The next morning, on their return from 
church, I expected something important to occur, 
and indeed the chambermaid entered my apart- 
ment to inform me that my mother desired to see 
me for a few moments. I was taken somewhat 
aback on being so abruptly summoned, and brusque- 
ly answered that I had no time to go down to my 
mother’s rooms, as I had other business to attend to. 
[Natalie in a few moments came up and entreated 
me to go down and see my mother, and so implor- 
ingly entreated that I finally yielded and went to 
the entrance of my mother’s apartments. But, 
alas ! at the moment my sister was about to open 
the door I was so overcome with the feeling of 
shame and remorse that, gliding from her presence, 
I vanished like an apparition and skipped back to 
my room. My poor sister returned in a moment, 
rapped at my door, and, sobbing with despair, told 
me that my mother was in a state of indescribable 
anger, and that she seriously contemplated going 
to Uncle James if I did not obey her on the spot 5 
but I still refused to yield. 

At dinner-hour my sister — I can scarcely tell 
■yyliy — delayed coming into the dining-room, where 
I was alone with my mother. To avoid any con- 


438 


The IIiLiitcr of ihc Alps, 


Tersation willi lier, instead of coating myself at 
table I turned round and began to caress the huge 
dog that lay underneath the window, whereupon 
my mother said in a loud and stern Yoice : 

^Julian, it is time that this should end. I 
want you to understand that I am wearied, even 
disgusted, with your recent conduct. Be careful. 
Know that your mother has not as yet made her last 
will and testament, and do not compel me to disin- 
herit you and give all I possess to your more de- 
serving sister.’ 

This threat, which I had never before heard, 
stung me' to the quick. I answered her w-ith in- 
dignant scorn that my father had left me a suf- 
ficient fortune to enable me to dispense with hers ; 
that she cotild keep her gold, but that I insisted on 
her returning me my honor. I then left the room 
with proud and haughty step. 

“The pain which this unworthy and insolent 
answer caused her prostrated her on a bed of sick- 
ness ; dinner was that day deferred, and the whole 
house was turned topsy-turvy. A few days subse- 
quently I determined on asking my uncle to effect 
my emancipation and my separation from my 
mother, to allow me to live with him until I 
should attain my majority. But he deluged me 
with such a flood of insolence that at the thought 
of it my heart still throbs with ineffable indigna- 
tion. 

“ At the period I speak of, I was unaware that 
my mother had agreed, at the solicitation of Don 
Egidio, to enter my room unexpectedly, fling herself 


The Hunter of the Alps. 439 

into my arms, kiss me tenderly, and be reconciled 
for ever. On knowing that I had recourse to the 
protection of Uncle James she became a prey to 
indignant anger, and our reconciliation w^as unhap- 
pily frustrated. This was the cause of the af- 
front I suffered at her hands, on the occasion of 
a public reception, a circumstance that determined 
my flight to Piedmont. 

‘^But I suppose it was the will of Providence. 
I had greatly changed ; I knew not my own mind ; 
I could not understand myself ; I needed a harsh 
and rude lèsson. My mother’s declaration that she no 
longer loved me penetrated my heart like a poison- 
ed barb, banished peace from my pillow, and almost 
rendered me insane. I no longer loved her — but no I 
I retract that expression ; I did love her and I love 
her still, for I have ever since been a prey to re- 
morse for the unintended ungratefulness that I 
have shown toward my sweet and beloved mother. 
Nevertheless, I must admit that I caused her un- 
speakable pain, which I have since deplored and 
hourly wTpt ; but my only excuse is that when 
I thought of how she had acted toward me, and 
what she said anent me, reason reeled upon her 
throne — I no longer knew what I did.” 



> CHAPTER LVIII. 

THE INCIDENTS OF A JOURNEY, 

Heaven be praised ! the intelligence, my dear 
Florence, you convey me fills my heart with plea- 
sure.” 

^^The despatch arrived at eleven o’clock last 
evening, and it is likewise true that it is of su- 
preme importance. A rap was heard at my 
door, I received a note and presented it to the 
countess. 

She was resting in bed at the time. She im- 
mediately arose and opened the letter, read it, and 
reread it. Then she ordered that my sister should 
be awakened in order to see it, too. Both on seeing 
it were intoxicated with pleasure. I left them 
wild with joy, so much so that I do not believe 
that either of the two closed an eye during the 
whole night; or if they closed their eyes before 
break of dawn, it was only to dream, and the 
dreams were golden, of poor Julian. But while 
his mother and sister dreamt of him he dreamt of 
them, too, and these were golden dreams ! ” 

How satisfied I am ! ” 

Would to Heaven that all troubles were over! 

440 


The Hunter of the Alps. 441 

Were ifc otherwise, I know not what would hap- 
pen.’’ 

What ! you still retain the telegraphic de- 
spatch in question and you still entertain your 
doubts?” 

Ah ! Don Egidio, to tell you what I really 
think, I have witnessed so much in relation to this 
affair that I veritably agree with a great saint who 
wished to see before believing. Remansit fide 
dubiusJ^ 

"'Why, you speak Latin with Ciceronian ele- 
gance !” 

Oh ! that is rather too flattering ; hut I have 
studied the stately Latin language somewhat, 
though I confess it has been certain years since. 
But, to revert to the idea that a moment ago en- 
gaged my attention, I cannot help repeating that 
my theology coincides with, that of the doubting 
Thomas. So long as I do not see the young count 
in the arms of his mother, so long as I see not a le- 
conciliation effected between them, I cannot be- 
lieve that either the one or the other has ceased to 
suffer. We have too long remained depending on 
flimsy hopes at Turin and Borgomanero.” 

Florence, you are singularly patient in this mat- 
ter, but, I conceive, you will get over it by and by.” 

“ What you say I readily admit. Still, if the de- 
spatch in question is as explicit as you have observ- 
ed, I cannot see any grounds for your doubts.” 

“The despatch is as clear as the noonday sun. 
The countess and her daughter have read it and 
reread it so often that they actually know it by 


442 The Hunter of the Alps. 

heart. Here are the remarks of ihe good Chevalier 
Eugene : 

‘ The count declares the boys are all right. Ho 
will in a brief periol bring Julian home to his 
mother.’ 

And yet you are not satisfied ? Heaven pre- 
serve you ! As to me, I hourly rejoice on thinking 
of the happiness the countess would experience on 
reading those few words : 

my i^oor mother I how I long to see her, 
fling myself into her arms, and be forgiven for my 
ill-advised actions.’ 

‘^Please, know, reverend father; that unholy Sa- 
turday, when you kindly filled my heart with hope, I 
did not forget the favor. And what was the result ? 
Nothing.” ‘‘Let us see, Elorence. ‘He who proves 
too much proves nothing.’ ” “ Well, all right ; at all 
events, it ‘will be your business to restrain the in- 
dignation of the countess and her daughter. I had 
enough to do with the whole alfair, and I purpose 
washing my hands out of it now. What tedious 
hours and sleepless nights I have for the past two 
days experienced it were impossible to describe. 
It seems almost miraculous that I did not lose my 
senses.” 

“But explain your explanation. What is the 
matter ? You know that with me you.can speak 
frankly.” 

“ My dear Don Egidio, it would require a bulky 
volume to relate to you all that has occurred. It 
were impossible to depict the agony which the good 
lady suffered; she yearned, wept, almost fainted 


The H tinier of the Alps, 


443 


away ; her anguish it were impossible to describe. 
One day it was rumored the young count was dead ; 
the next day it was said he was wounded ; then it 
was told he had deserted ; and, finally, it was said 
he had been made a prisoner by the Austrians. 
And, Florence, I wish you to try once more what 
can be done in the affair in question. I, as you 
know, exerted every energy to dissipate the clouds 
of doubt that hovered over the imagination ; but 
Natalie so tormented me, and so contradicted me, 
that to do so I would have required the patience of 
Job. The artless girl found every day some new 
occasion to torment me. Her affection for Julian 
almost amounted to insanity, and so changed her 
character that she became the victim of a W'easel- 
like peevishness.’’ 

But what is surprising in this? You know 
how dearly she loves her brother.” 

^‘It is well known that she is possessed of a 
dove4ike tenderness of character, but allow me to 
observe that on certain occasions she is accustomed 
to temper her conversation with a little Attic salt. 
But then I like a poutish girl. To bring the coun- 
tess and her daughter to leave Turin it was neces- 
sary to utilize the good offices of Count James, 
and at the time we speak of he was in no merry 
mood of temper. Having arrived at Genoa, he 
took it in head to return at break-neck speed to 
Varese. I felt that night as if I had been tramp- 
ing on a tread-mill. The count intimated his 
purpose to finish the whole affair in a short space 
of time, cost what it would. But Natalie, in her 


444 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


girlish good nature, simply spoiled her mother. 
She was never done crying, ‘Julian is here; Julian 
is there.’ Her mother was entirely under her con- 
trol, and with no mean effort I succeeded on the 
3d of June in inducing them to leave Genoa and 
hasten toward Pisa.” 

“And how comes it that it required such a 
length of time to arrive at Pisa ? ” 

“ How I talked myself hoarse in endeavoring to 
prove to the countess that we should not stop on 
the way. Bat the young girl unhappily fell sick. 
Then she brought forward a multitude of pretexts 
for the purpose of gaining time and seeing if a 
means could not be devised to reach Milan. As 
soon as possible I induced them to come to Flor- 
ence, where, as soon as they arrived, we learned 
that the Austrians, after having lost the great bat- 
tle of Magenta, evacuated Milan, broken and rout- 
ed. Natalie absolutely wished to follow the track 
of the Prendi army. She could neither eat nor 
sleep for love of her brother, and she became seri- 
ously ill. 0 what a day of pain it was ! the coun- 
tess was beside herself with melancholy, and her 
countenance was pitiable to see. She could scarcely 
be recognized, so deep wastne impression made on 
her. Julian is living; Julian is dead; Julian is 
lost; Julian will come back to his mother again 
— such were the questions frequently asked, but 
vaguely and fearfully answered. His mother had 
no other thought but Julian. She was com- 
pletely under the control of her daughter, and I 
was impelled to hourly dispute with that pettish 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


445 

but loving sister, so much so that an hour’s repose 
was impossible.” ' 

‘'Poor boy, in what difficulty have you foolishly 
flung yourself ? ” 

“ I convinced the countess that while we loitered 
in Tuscany we had daily news from Count James, 
and occasionally, perhaps, from Julian in person. 
This thought, whispered to me by my good angel, 
struck her as true. 

“ Whereupon she left Florence without further 
ceremony; but Providence, in its kindness to- 
ward me, afforded an opportunity of sending 
her satisfactory intelligence, without which I know 
not how I could extricate myself from the difficulty 
in which I was placed.” 

“Admirable! Heaven be praised for crowning 
your labors with such untold success ! ” 

“ You are perfectly correct ; we are deeply in- 
debted to Him who rules over us. And, accord- 
ingly, I earnestly entreat you to implore Heaven to 
extend its mercy over the suffering countess, who 
now stands on the very brink of despair. I deeply 
feel for her future. Shall I frankly reveal my 
thoughts on the subject ?” 

“ Undoubtedly ; anything you communicate shall 
never be divulged.” 

“ I fear that she will succumb to the grief to 
which she is a prey.” 

“ What a singular apprehension ! ” 

“ Remember, canon, what Florence observed, 
and pray Heaven that his predictions will not come 
to pas But listen to what I have to say. It may 


446 The HiLiiter of the Alps, 

nofc be agreeable, but it is nevertheless true. We 
arrived last evening at nine o’clock at the hotel. 
Madame the countess had scarce placed her foot 
on the carriage-steps than she - sent, not for the 
Countess Olimpia, her sister, nor any other person 
belonging to her, but Bernard, the cabinetmaker, 
who, as we before mentioned, lived in an adjacent 
street. This shop, at the moment referred to, 
was closed. No answer was made to the person 
rapping at the door. He rapped again and again. 
At length he was answered, but to his grief 
was told by the valet that Bernard was dead, and 
had been buried some eight days previously. The 
countess was merged in despair for the reason that 
she could no longer talk with Bernard anent her 
son Julian. What folly all through the affair ! ” 

‘^Probably the countess had reasons which could 
not be impeached, to act as she did.” 

This conversation between Don Egidio and Flo- 
rence took place in a small parlor where the Coun- 
tess Leonie had her ajoartmeuts, on the 11th of 
June, at an early hour of the morning. 

Without venturing to make any commentary on 
this conversation, we must nevertheless observe 
that the good and faithful servitor exaggerated be- 
yond measure his toils and troubles (though, truth 
to tell, they were not inconsiderable), in order, at 
the promptings of a guiltless vanity, to make bin - 
self appear big and important. From Genoa to the 
end of the journey, where they arrived on the fore- 
going evening, he had nevertheless been but a. 
humble and docile instrument in the h inds of the 


The Hunter of the Alps, 447 

worthy countess. For, though simply pompons, 
the good, easy servitor was endowed with the sin- 
cerity of youth. 

A few moments subsequently the canon was ad- 
mitted to the presence of Leonie, who hastened to 
meet him, and received him in the most affection- 
ate. and gracious manner. For a considerable 
space of time nothing was spoken of save the 
despatch received on the aforementioned evening. 
Of what could the countess, indeed, speak at the 
moment referred to with Don Egidio but of her 
beloved boy Julian, and of the unspeakable anxiety 
wherewith she awaited his return from minute to 
minute^ both night and day. In the course of the 
talk alluded to she evinced that boundless, ocean- 
like love that inflames a mother’s heart. 

In speaking to the Count James she was elated, 
as she conceived that he would say nought in the 
case of his nephew that might not be taken for a 
fixed fact. 

The good Count James sent me yesterday at 
four o’clock in the afternoon this telegraphic de- 
spatch-laconic, indeed, but clear ; parsimonious, 
but tender. ‘Julian must surely arrive, at the 
latest, to-morrow.’ ” 

“ But it remains to be known whence they start- 
ed, and what distance they have to cover, madame.” 

“Oh! but — well, yes, they can make the jour- 
ney in three days, canon.” 

'“Oh ! I am aware of that; but, at any rate, a 
day sooner or later makes not much difference.” 

“ Oh ! to me it makes all tlie difference in the 


448 


The Hunter of the Alfs. 


world. I feel every minuie to be an hour. Since 
I read the lines alluded to my pulse beats faster, 
and my heart throbs with that love which but a 
mother can conceive or feel,’’ 

Natalie, who at this moment came into the room, 
received with marked politeness the good canon. 
He eyed her for a moment, as he had heard that 
she had recently been in a weak state of health. 
On looking at her he stood aghast, for he found 
. her so changed from what she had theretofore been. 
The pretty, poutisli, girlish smile that was w'ont to 
play on her lips was gone, and her countenance 
now presented the same woe-begone features as her 
mother’s. 

On sharply looking at the wrinkled brow of the 
canon one might easily observe the ruling thought 
that clouded his mind and banished his usual joy- 
ousness, frank character, and gay but harmless 
playfulness, • 

The countess, who possessed in an eminent de- 
gree the faculty of penetration of character, de- 
tected it forthwith. At the instant, after the 
usual preliminaries incident to the occasion whereof 
we speak were over, Leonie asked Don Egidio the 
cause of his preoccupation of mind, whereupon the 
wily but good old cleric cast at her a glance which 
clearly said, ‘^Send away your daughter from our 
presence for a moment.” 

My child,” observed the countess with exqui- 
site nai'veté, do not lose any further time; attend 
to the many things you have to do, and which you 
are expected to look after. Go and take your usual 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


449 


daily practice on the piano, or anything else you deem 
fit. I have to speak with a multitude of persons 
this morning in regard to your brother. You will, 
therefore, be so kind as to leave me at liberty to at- 
tend to (for us) such an all-important matter.” 

The gentle girl, who never disobeyed her good 
mother, forthwith arose and retired from the room 
in the most gracious manner. 




CHAPTER LIX. 

A NEW REVELATION. 

‘VWell, canon,” demanded the lady imme- 
diately, what news have we now ? ” 

Countess,” gravely answered the priest with 
solemn air, ‘^you know who I am; you are 
aware that I yield to none as regards affection for 
Julian and devotedness to your distinguished 
house.” 

‘^Ah ! Don Egidio, who ever entertained the 
slightest doubt of that ? Your observation amazes 
me,” she remarked with apparent uneasiness. 

My conscience compels me to make certain re- 
marks that I proposed postponing to a future and 
more opportune time ; but the daily-expected ar- 
rival of Julian announced ex ahriipto at once alters 
my decision. I’ll tell you at the outset that 
my duty, devotion, and friendship force me to 
speak as I am speaking.” . 

‘‘ Please, canon, explain what you mean ; your 
observations disturb my peace of mind.” 

There is no cause for your anxiety ; simply tell 
me if Julian has been reconciled with you ? ” 

hope so ; I am even very sure of it ; his let- 
450 


The Hìinter of the Alps, 451 

ters from Pontestura and Solbiate are so exceed- 
ingly affectionate.” 

And you have forgiven him ? ” 

‘‘ 0 Heaven ! what a question to ask. Have 
1 forgiven him ? Why, Julian is my son, and my 
only son, and you ask me have I forgiven him ? I 
only hope that God will forgive me as quickly as 
I have forgiven my poor lost Julian.” 

And do you really believe that during the past 
winter he was guilty of any wrong, and that he truly 
deserved the punishments you inflicted on him ? ” 
Oh I that’s a subject I don’t wish to speak 
about ; that secret is buried in the depths of my 
heart, and known alone to me, himself, his uncle, 
and another no longer among the living. I beg 
your forgiveness, indeed, but I cannot help saying 
that the subject you adverted to is one that I wish 
never to hear mentioned.” 

And if I knew that famous secret, what would 
you say, madame ?” 

^^Itis impossible,” she replied in an energetic 
tone, and blushing to the eyes, ‘^unless that man 
perjured himself.” 

But if he whom you allude to before he died — ” 
My God . . . canon !... you spoke to him?” 
You understand. Yes, I have spoken to Ber- 
nard ; he sent for me to his bedside some hours 
before he expired — before the last access of deadly 
fever. He asked me to inform you that he had de- 
ceived you, that Julian — 

Was innocent ! ” she screamed, almost in a de- 
lirium. 


452 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


Entirely innocent of the absurdities that he im- 
puted to him with the view of inducing you to give 
a marriage portion and a wedding present to his 
Beatrice.” 

The lady rose, tottered, clasped her hands on her 
forehead, and then dropped back into her seat ex- 
hausted. 

Heaven ! ” she exclaimed in a state of stupor, 
my mind told me ; and I, wretch that I am — oh ! 
my poor enigmatical Julian.” 

Stopping suddenly, she fixed her eyes upon the 
canon, clapped her hands, and sobbed aloud, her 
cheeks bathed with tears. 

. At this sight the tender-hearted canon felt so 
moved and touched that he could not speak. He 
burst into tears, and with his two hands signed to 
her imploringly to be calm, to conquer the emotion 
which so profoundly agitated her. 

^^Be assured of it,” he was finally able to say, 
it has caused me great annoyance to dissipate by 
this sudden revelation the joy you experienced on 
receiving the despatch yesterday evening. But you 
are a perfectly rational lady, gifted with good 
sense, and you understand better than myself how 
necessary it was to open your eyes before Julian 
rushed into your arms.” 

‘‘ Ah ! my worthy friend, I am dreaming; I am 
no longer myself ; I am raving,” exclaimed the 
countess so soon as she could breathe. Oh ! tell 
me everything ; hide nothing from me. If I have 
erred. Ell make atonement. If I have been de- 
ceived, I am resolved to punish the deceivers.” 


453 


The Hunter of the Alps, 

‘^Yes, but the atonement must be maternal, 
the punishment tempered with Christian . forbear- 
ance.” 

“ Ah ! my tenderness has reached the limits of 
possibility. To go beyond those limits I should 
have two hearts.” 

‘‘ The punishment is : pardon poor Bernard and 
pray for the repose of his soul !” 

At these w'ords Leonie suddenly rose, compress- 
ing her lips at the same time, her face crimsoned 
with emotion. She turned her eyes to a beautiful 
ivory crucifix. 

Let the unhappy boy receive my forgiveness 
and my prayers. May Grod, who sees my heart of 
hearts, deign to accept, in expiation of his faults, 
all the agony I have been- doomed to suffer and the 
Masses that I have ordered for the eternal repose 
of his soul!” 

Very good, countess. Oh ! how admirably you 
make amends for the past,” observed Don Egidio 
brushing away a tear of emotion that unconsciously 
streamed down his cheek. “ I now comprehend 
your character. You are, indeed, the magnani- 
mous, pious, and truly Christian lady yoti were 
represented to be. Happy lady ! you have subdued 
a passion which it is most difficult to conquer — the 
offended honor of a mother’s heart. May God re- 
compense you ! May he bless you with his celestial 
consolation in a hundredfold degree ! ” 

After this exordium Don Egidio explained in 
the most delicate manner to the countess all the 
details that the unfortunate Bernard, through re- 


454 Hunter of the Alps. 

morse of conscience,, was compelled to reveal to 
him. His well-put insinuations were but unmiti- 
gated slanders, invented for the purpose of obtain- 
ing from the too credulous generosity of that 
mother a dowry for his daughter. Never did J ulian 
evince the slightest love for Beatrice, nor did she in 
the least engage his attention ; never did ho re- 
ceive the camellias from her own hands; on the con- 
trary, he almost invariably culled them with his own 
hand, or accepted them from Bernard himself, who 
pressed them on him with unwearied earnestness. 
Never did Julian remark that he would render 
Beatrice happy at some future day, or manifest 
the slightest intention of marrying her. The two 
ladies who, in the month of November, had come 
to apprise the countess that she should be on her 
guard with respect to Julian had been artfully in- 
stigated thereto by the reports that Bernard had 
spread among their friends. On his death-bed the 
cabinetmaker revealed all his inventions. He 
bitterly repented of them, and begged the countess’ 
2 )ardon and the forgiveness of the Lord. 

Accordingly, as the canon explained this retrac- 
tion so frank, so closely agreeing with the march 
of events, . Leonie gradually felt herself becoming 
undeceived. She discovered each thread of this 
black and perfidious web wherewith she was en- 
veloped so as to place her in imminent danger of 
losing her beloved son. She trembled with emo- 
tion. Confused and regretful at having been so 
readily entrapped, she finally became a prey to the 
most intense grief. But what was now to be done ? 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


455 


It was ioo late for vuiu regret. Leonie finally 
comprehended this, and yielded to the wise re- 
monstrances of the good canon, who exhorted her 
to be resigned to the Divine Will, which can always 
draw good from evil. 



CHAPTER LX. 


NEW TROUBLES. 

Natalie, who was occupied in setting in order 
an adjoining room, heard for some time her mother 
engaged in an earnest conversation, heaving deep 
sighs, and breaking forth in frequent exclamations. 
But, with delicate discretion, she was careful not 
to listen to the conversation, and was content to 
imagine that these sighs and exclamations were the 
results of the joy excited by the despatch received 
the evening before^ or the anxiety of waiting to the 
following morning. After having finished her 
work, she went and seated herself before the piano 
and began performing a familiar air. While thus 
engaged she heard the door open behind her, and, 
on turning around, she beheld a pretty child come 
tripping into the room. Attracted, doubtless, by 
the music, he stood in the centre of the room, and 
amazedly contemplated Natalie. The latter, rising 
from her seat, asked curiously : 

‘‘ Who are you, my pretty boy ? ” 

.The child made no answer, but, fixing his large 
blue eyes on her, drew back timidly. 

‘‘ Who are you, my boy ? ’’ repeated Natalie. 

456 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


457 


The boy continued to retire, bis eyes bashfully 
cast on the ground. To hTatalie he seemed a veri- 
table angel, his countenance so beamed with beauty 
and purity. His waving golden locks hung over 
his shoulders, and he was dressed in the most tasty 
and elegant style. His attitude and bearing were 
candid and exalted. He seemed to possess a regal, 
informal spirit. Natalie at first was rather timid 
in approaching him ; but the child having betaken 
himself to a large arm-chair hard by, she, after a 
moment’s hesitation, advanced toward him, looked 
at him for an instant with gentle glance, and 
again repeated, in tender tone : 

Who are you, my pretty little boy ? What do 
you want ? Do not be afraid to tell me ? ” 

The child tremblingly bent down his head and 
made no answer. Natalie went over to him, patted 
him on the cheek, and caressed him, and, taking 
him gently by the hand, led him into the adjoin- 
ing room to present him to her mother. 

Otto, I suppose you have been into some mis- 
chief again, as usual,” remarked a gentleman who 
was engaged in conversation with the countess and 
the canon, at the moment Natalie appeared at the 
entrance of the apartment. 

‘‘Come in, Natalie,” said the mother; “come 
and present your compliments to Mr. Leopold, 
Maso’s father.” 

“Ah I” exclaimed the girl, deeply blushing and 
bowing with graceful courtesy. “But, mamma, 
who is this pretty little cherub, do you know ?’ 

“ That’s my son, miss,” answered Leopold, as he 


458 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


took the child by the hand and presented him to 
Leonie, saying : 

Go and shake hands with this lady. Where 
have you been hiding yourself, you little rogue? 
Did I not tell you to stay in the antechamber ?” 

Leonie tenderly kissed the child, after, having 
delicately complimented the father on his beauty.. 

Sir,” she observed in pressi.ng the pretty boy 
to her bosom and pointing to, Natalie, I have the 
honor of introducing to your notice Julian’s sister.” 

I am sincerely delighted,” he answered, and 
cannot help congratulating you on being blessed 
with so charming a daughter.” 

Ah ! the poor child is no longer herself. She 
is at present in a pitiable condition. She is hourly 
wasting away.” 

And, pressing her cheek to the boy’s brow, who 
clung in her arms in half-timid bashfulness, the 
countess dropped a furtive tear, which she in vain 
endeavored to conceal. The company remained 
for a moment in silence, and Natalie, taking the 
smiling boy from her mother’s lap, cloyed him with 
kisses, candies, and hon-boiis. 

Subsequently the thread of the narrative was re- 
sumed, which turned, as is scarce necessary to ob- 
serve, on Julian and Maso, on the latter’s wound, 
on the encouraging despatch, and on the approach- 
ing arrival of Count James, which was so impa- 
tiently expected. 

The reader must remember that Leopold had re- 
ceived certain information at Turin anent the fa- 
mily name and the city wherein the countess re- 


The Hu 7 iter of 'the Alps. 459 

sided. Eecalled home on account of his wife’s se- 
rious illness, he of course hastened thither. Hap- 
pily, however, Leonora became convalescent in a 
brief period following his arrival. But the poor 
mother was incessantly lamenting the absence of her 
boy Maso; she wept and perpetually importuned 
Lady Bianca, her mother, as also her husband, to 
secure to her the restoration of her cherished son. 
With the design of appeasing her unspeakable an- 
guish, Leopold endeavored to impress on her mind 
that Maso was already enjoying the protection of 
the countess, the mother of his trusty friend; that 
she had effected his removal from the ranks of 
Garibaldi ; and that in all human probability she 
would bring him back to Tuscany safe and well. 
But day followed day and Maso appeared not, 
whereon Leopold conceived the design of repairing 
in all haste to the residence of Leonie. He took 
with him little Otto, his third son, who had scarce 
attained his sixth year. He was the most mis- 
chievous member of the entire family, who seemed 
to be endowed with the quality of perpetual mo- 
tion, and was a constant annoyance to his mother 
during her convalescence; for the good Lady Bi- 
anca, too generous and too indulgent, had not the 
slightest power over the mischievous lad. 



CHAPTER LXI. 

THE DIHHER. 

We have not the time, nor is it any of our pur- 
pose, to detail to the reader all the events that oc- 
curred during the day. It was Saturday, and was 
occupied in earnest conversation between Maso’s 
father and Julian’s mother. Both were a prey to 
uncertainty, hope, and fear. Hourly, friends and 
relatives came to congratulate the countess on her 
return home. The apartments were flung open to 
all as on special reception days ; nothing was wit- 
nessed 'save the coming-in and going-out of ladies 
and gentlemen ; nor was scarce anything heard but 
the rustle of silken trains and the hum of compli- 
ments and congratulations. Alternately the sub- 
jects of conversation were regrets for the mother’s 
ill health, the daughter’s feeble condition, and on 
the anguish which wrung the hearts of both. The 
unhappy lady, whose heart was fixed on other 
things than compliments and ceremonies, vainly 
endeavored to conceal from all her uneasiness and 
heartache, and return a gracious word to all who 
sympathized with her in her sorrow. 

The countess pressed Leopold to remain and 
4r>o 


The Hnìiter of the Alps. 461 

dine with them on the following day. The canon, 
the Countess Olympia, her daughters, and Florence 
composed the company. All the honors were con- 
ferred on Leopold, all the caresses were lavished on 
Otto, who, fresh, rosy, brisk, and smiling, was the 
hero of the table and the favorite of the guests. 
Seated between Natalie and the eldest ' of his 
cousins, each of them unremittingly placed every 
delicate morceaio on his plate, and had no little care 
to prevent him from soiling his nicely-bleached 
bib. Having freely got over his timidity of the 
previous evening, the little lad deluged the com- 
pany with his childish prattle, and all were amus- 
ed at the naive wit which incessantly poured 
from his lips. Florence, who never lost an oppor- 
tunity of trying to make himself seem big, was 
never done directing attention to the perfect re- 
semblance of the child and his brother Maso, with 
whom he had the honor to hold along and familiar 
conversation in the barracks of Savigliano ; and, 
addressing Leopold, he every minute repeated, in 
self-sufficient tone : 

^^My dear sir, those luminous crystal eyes so 
forcibly remind me of Maso ! When I see little 
Otto smile I seem to think that I am looking on 
Maso’s handsome face. What a beautiful child he 
is !” 

The father smiled sadly, and Leonie remarked 
to him : Who knows, Mr. Leopold, but that your 
darling boy may arrive to-day with my cherished 
son ? Oh ! how my heart beats at the happy 
thought.” 


462 The Himter of the Alps, 

you" know, Ofcto,” said Natalie to the 
child, ‘‘ that that gentleman yonder has seen 
Maso?^^ 

“ Who ? that man down there ? answered Otto, 
pointing towards Florence with his fork. 

^^Yes, exactly.” 

Why, that ugly old fellow ! That’s the ugliest 
old man I ever saw in my life.” 

^^Otto, you yillanoiis . little rascal!” cried his 
father in thunderous tone, whilst a subdued snicker 
ran round the table, and Florence’s face turned 
blue with indignation. 

What news have you received from Tuscany 
this morning ? ” asked the canon, in the adroit 
endeavor -to divert the attention of Leopold, who 
was burning with shame at the unexpected esca- 
pade of his roguish little boy. 

^^ Oh! nothing of any special account. This is 
a fat time for a crowd of impostors, cheats, and 
mountebanks, against whom the government of our 
good grand duke has shown so much indulgence 
that it may be said to amount to feebleness. The 
scribblers of the Civil Italian Library, of the Spec- 
lator, and of other masked sheets play the rdle of a 
set of junketers, while our pockets are robbed and 
our children stolen from us. 

This is the most important news I have to con- 
vey to you, and, to my mind, we need not expect 
any improvement.” 

Think you, Mr. Leopold, that affairs can re- 
main as they are at present ? ” 

I am no prophet, and cannot, of course, pre- 


The Hunter of the Alps. 463 

diet future events; but all I see tells me 
of the restoration of our grand duke. 

On the one hand we have a flock of 
ambitious and hungry thieves, who, though all 
their lives tatterdemalion ragamuffins, now aspire 
to place and power, to compass wliicli they would 
not hesitate to again crucify Christ. On the other 
hand, Piedmont promises them all they desire ; 
every species of decoration, provided they assist her 
in placing her paw on the crown of Lorraine, 
which she vehemently covets. Hence it is that we 
behold marquises and barons hob-nobbing with 
rowdj lazzaroni ; muddy-brained Cincinnatuses 
abandoning the plough they were scarce intelligent 
enough to follow, to undertake the responsibilities 
of official life and loll in the lap of luxury. Sordid 
penny-a-liners and lawyers without briefs strut 
about with as much ostentatious pomp as if they 
had been born in the purple, driving fast horses in 
gorgeous carriages, blazoned with ridiculous ar- 
morial bearings. It is not generally known that a 
locust-cloud of Piedmontese agents swarm over 
the land proclaiming that if we but were so singu- 
larly fortunate as to become annexed to Piedmont 
we should attain the acme of human happiness ! ” 
What happiness, indeed ! ” exclaimed the 
Countess Olympia. ‘^The most enlightened and 
polished people of the Peninsula to become the 
serfs of the rude and barbarous Boeotians of 
Italy!” 

‘‘Spea;knotso, my dear sister,” answered Leonie. 

I agree with your opinion as regards the Pied- 


464 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


montese, but my brief sojourn afc Turin and in 
other cities convinced me that I had been deceived. 
You might, indeed, say with justice that a small 
portion of the people and nobility have been spoiled 
and led astray by a government whose desire is to 
corrupt the people entirely ; but do not accuse a 
whole nation of barbarism, impiety, and ignorance ; 
for I can confidently assure you that as regards reli- 
gious belief, civilization, and chivalrous courtesy. 
Piedmont is even superior to our own Eomagna, 
nor do I think that it is inferior to Tuscany. I am 
speaking of the mass of the people ; I do not refer 
to the government or its satellites, who are the 
world’s shame and the scourge of Italy ! ” 

^'Ah ! the Alpine air must have turned your 
head, and communicated to you the contagious 
malady. Our liberals will, I conceive, be hence- 
forth your greatest admirers,” answered Olympia 
with irony. 

‘^You are not speaking seriously, I am sure. 
The Piedmontese Grovernment is, I readily admit, 
abominable in the extreme ; but it must neverthe- 
less be confessed that the people are worthy of ad- 
miration. If you had but witnessed the fervent 
piety wherewith they frequent the churches, how 
they reverence their clergy, and how devoted they 
are to the Pope 1 Would to God the subjects of 
His Holiness were as devoted to him as are the 
good people of Piedmont ! ” 

‘'As to me, I beseech God to preserve me from 
the contamination of that holy people ! Continue 
your panegyric. I shall be back in a moment,” re- 


The Hunter of the Alps, 465 

marked the Coantess Olympia, as she rose from the 
table in response to a word whispered in her ear 
by one of the servants. 

The Countess Leonie is right,” chimed in the 
canon. When it is a question of Turin we too 
readily confound men and things. The revolution 
which for the past eleven years has there ruled eman- 
ated from the higher classes, not from the people.” 

'^The Masonic societies haye sustained and 
kept it animated with vitality despite the every 
effort of the people, who so vehemently detest it; 
and the scum of the Italian rabble, entrenched 
within its defences, have made it a furnace of con- 
spiracy wherewith to set all Italy ablaze. Under 
the wing of the government, these scoundrels, who 
are the same throughout, ‘have arrived at the most 
infamous lengths. But it is not the fault of Pied- 
mont ; it is the exclusive work of the coterie who 
hold in their hands the ruling power, and who hypo- 
critically pretend to augment the power of the 
house of Savoy, with the design of bringing about 
the ruin of this same house and all Italy as well.” 

‘^And are you not fully convinced, canon,” 
asked Mr. Leopold, that after Piedmont has suc- 
ceeded in annexing Milan, Parma, Modena, and 
Plorence the appetite will increase with the 
eating, and that*Uaples and Rome will be likewise 
gobbled up . 

I am perfectly certain of it. Our puny libe- 
rals are never tired of proclaiming that Italy shall 
henceforth fofm but one great and powerful king- 
dom.” 


466 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


The countess at this junc-urc, growing im- 
patient at her sister’s absence, profited by a pause 
in Don Egidio’s conversation to ask a servant : 

Where is the Countess Olympia ? ” 

In tiie gallery, madame. She is speaking with 
her husband’s coachman.” 

Is she coming back ? ” she asked in visible 
distress. 

The servant intimated. that she was. 

Has he really come back already ? ” she de- 
manded, rising as she spoke from the table. 

‘^Who? my uncle? and with Julian?” cried 
Natalie as she sprang from the table in a state of 
indescribable excitement, 

“0 Heavens !” exclaimed Leonie in an almost 
breathless tone. ^‘Eun, my daughter, run quick 
and see if Julian has come, and if so, give him as 
soon as you see him a kiss for me. I — but, Mr. 
Leopold, please await him here with me.” 

Natalie at once rushed toward the door, but 
when she got there she cried : 

Florence, go you and see ; I am so weak with 
emotion that I really cannot go.” 

She returned tremblingly to the presence of her 
mother. Florence hastened forward as requested, 
followed by the good canon, while little Otto, 
clinging to his father, who stood still as a 
statue, exclaimed in childish amazement ; 

^‘Papa, what is the matter with all these, peo- 
ple ; they don’t know what they are doing. Tell 
me what all the fuss is about.” 


CHAPTER LXII. 


AK UNEXPECTED MEETING. 

‘‘It is he ; yes, for a certainty !” 

“Oh ! yes. Well, well, who would have imagined 
it ? What a keen eye Amelia has ! ” 

“ Did I not tell you it was he ? Do you not see 
that his handsome face is the very reflex of his 
mother’s countenance ?” 

“Ah ! poor Julian, how pale and emaciated you 
look !” 

“ So here you are ; who would expect to find you 
here ?” 

These hurried exclamations . followed a gentle 
tap of a lady’s hand nicely gloved, on Julian’s 
shoulder. But they did not confine themselves to 
words. A distinguished looking lady, in mourning, 
seized him by both hands, and a gentleman of 
equal distinction welcomed his unlooked-for pre- 
sence with a mixture of melancholy and subdued 
pleasure. Both were beside themselves with joy 
on seeing him. 

For a moment after this meeting J ulian stood as 
if petrified with amazement. He met the embraces 
and caresses of all with the immobility of a statue 
of distress. His face assumed all the colors of the 
467 


468 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


rainbow. But the first pang of astonishment over, 
he grasped the hand of the old gentleman with such 
warm vigor that he dropped his Panama hat on 
the ground. He endeavored, but in vain, to con- 
ceal the embarrassment he felt, for he would not 
for all the earth let it be known, could he conceal 
it, that he was so overwhelmed with confusion. 

Julian, here is your hat,” said the elder of the 
two young ladies in giving him his hat with a 
gracious smile, after he had shaken the hand of 
the gentleman aforementioned. But, tell me, 
where is Natalie ? What has become of her ? Is 
she well ? ” 

I thank you, Amelia ; a thousand thanks, mar- 
chioness. How fortunate, how delighted I am ! ” 
the youth answered with evident hesitation, hold- 
ing his hat in ono hand and his silk kerchief in 
the other, wherewith he from time to time wiped 
his face. 

Julian,” answered the latter, ‘‘put on your 
hat ; we are all friends here. And now give us 
some information, if you can, about your good 
mother.” 

“ Is she at Milan with you ? ” the marchioness 
forthwith demanded, as she graciously tapped him 
on the shoulder. 

“Yes. If she has not as yet arrived, she will not 
delay long,” answered Julian, turning towards Ame- 
lia, who asked him ; 

“And has your sister likewise arrived ?” 

“ Certainly ; I expect them from hour to hour — 
that is, if they are not as yet arrived.” 


The Hunter of the Alps, 469 

‘‘But how is it that the countess has been able 
to communicate with you under such circumstances 
and in such a city as this ? ’’ insisted the gentle- 
man. 

“ What do you say, marquis ?” 

“In what hotel have you taken apartments ?” 

“I await my mother’s arrival to select suitable 
rooms.” 

“ 0 Julian ! come to our apartments,” exclaim- 
ed Amelia. 

On hearing this proposition Julian turned pale, 
and his distress was so visible that the two ladies 
as they passed through the crowd considered him a 
perfect object of pity. Having emerged from the 
crowd and entered a cross-street, which ended in a 
small open square some what sheltered from the sun, 
they were enabled to repose a moment and breathe 
the fresh air. Julian in his effort to conceal his 
trouble considered every means to extricate himself 
from the hands of those who held him as in a vice. 

Our readers may readily conceive that the indi- 
viduals who so unexpectedly increased the embar- 
rassment of our poor Hunter of the Alps were 
members of the family of the young Achilles, allied 
by the closest ties of friendship to J ulian’s family. 
All, consequently, desired to know the cause of his 
presence at Milan. They enquired for his mother, 
his sister, the Count James, his aunt Olympia, his 
cousins, and the other members of the family. We 
must here observe that the Marquis Alphonsus, his 
wife Helena, and his two daughters, Amelia and 
Maria, knew nothing of the flight of Julian and 


470 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


his enlistment in the Piedmontese .army ; for the 
marquis had spent the winter in Paris, whither his 
wife went to meet liim about the middle of April 
with her two daughters ; but the Countess Leonie 
was careful not to write to the marchioness or to 
any of her friends concerning the melancholy 
freak of her beloved son. Nevertheless, during 
the winter certain rumors leaked out anent the 
rupture between Julian and his mother had come 
to the ears of Madame Helena, who was greatly 
pained thereat, because, as we have observed, she 
had come to an understanding with the countess 
concerning the marriage of Amelia, who had just 
completed her seventeenth year. 

The same cause which had induced the countess, 
and subsequently Count James, to travel through 
Tipper Italy under the stormy circumstances j)ro- 
duced by the war had also brought the Marquis 
Alphonsus and his family to Milan — we mean the 
endeavor to discover and bring home Achilles. The 
superiors of the college whence the boy fled could 
give no other information to the marchioness than 
the fact that he had suddenly disappeared. They 
were of opinion, nevertheless, that he had enlisted 
in the Piedmontese army. Hence the slow pro- 
cedure, the perpetual hesitation. One moment 
they asked. Is he in Tuscany ? whither it appear- 
ed he had gone; the next instant. Was. he in the 
kingdom of Sardinia ? Finally, his father, after 
making the closest search at headquarters, deter- 
mined to follow with his family the track of the 
allied army to Milan, where he would act as cir- 


The Hunter of the Alps, 471 

cumsfcances might dictate. They arrived on the 
9 th of June at an early hour in the morning. This 
family, who wore mourning for two dear relatives 
recently deceased, were in a state of inexpressible 
consternation, and wept for the fate of the runaway 
boy, whose fate was such a mystery. 

We may easily conceive why the unexpected 
meeting of Julian caused the family of the mar- 
quis such astonishment. Amelia, who immediately 
recognized him in the midst of the throng, at once 
pointed him out to her mother. The marchioness 
could scarce believe her eyes ; her daughter, certain 
that she was right, persisted, and at the moment 
when the imperial cavalcade passed by she rushed 
into the serried throng of gaping sight-seers. She 
called Julian by name, and gently tapped him on 
the shoulder. Father, mother, and sister were 
equally convinced of the truth. 

The young girl had got an inkling of the mys- 
tery existing between the Countess Leonie and her 
mother. While Julian was entirely ignorant of the 
matter, Amelia was perfectly conversant with it. 
She had been informed of the consent of her pa- 
rents. She was aware that the first overtures would 
be made in a few months, when the two families 
met at the watering-place of Torretta ; she knew 
besides that the marriage was to take place during 
the coming autumn. But who had given her this 
information ? Nobody. She learned the fact 
through an accident. 

While the Marchioness Helena, a prey to an- 
guish on account of the flight of Achilles, had her 


472 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


trunks packed in order to proceed to Paris, Amelia 
was apprised of the whole affair through a stray 
epistle which she picked up. It was a congratu- 
latory new-year’s letter, wherein the Countess 
Leonie, writing to her friend Helena, thanked her 
and her husband, the marquis, for the cordiality 
whei’Qvvith they granted their daughter’s hand to 
her son ; and she observed furthermore that she 
preferred this match to several others, apparently 
more advantageous, which had been previously 
proposed, and she detailed all the preparations for 
the approaching marriage. 

It was not Amelia’s fault if this letter fell into 
her hands. The marchioness had instructed her 
daughter, whom she knew to be both clever and 
astute, to glance over all her papers and place the 
most important in the safe. Overwhelmed with 
grief, the unhappy mother did not think for a 
moment that in the bunch of keys which she con- 
fided to her daughter was one which opened a se- 
cret drawer wherein Leonie’s letter had been care- 
fully concealed. 

Setting to work, Amelia opened all the drawers 
indiscriminately. A single letter attracted her at- 
tention; she devoured its contents with unspeak- 
able eagerness. 

She could easily discern as she read that she was 
acting in defiance of her mother’s wishes. Bui 
who could expect a daughter of Eve so young in 
years to refrain from reading a letter so interest- 
ing ? 

Carried away by her curiosity, she forgot every- 


473 


The Hunter of the Alps. 

thing else ; she forgot her own existence ; she was 
wholly absorbed in the contents of this epistle. 
She could not believe her eyes; she read it a 
second and even a third time. While engaged in 
its perusal she felt a new world of sensations ris- 
ing in her heart and disturbing her mind. Satis- 
fied at last, but still unappeased, she attempted to 
fold the letter and replace it in its envelope ; 
but her hands trembled, a cold sweat streamed 
down her face, two icy tears glittered on her 
cheek. She blushed with shame, wiped her face 
with her silk apron, and proceeded to put the let- 
ter where she had found it ; when she perceived on 
the envelope the following words in her mother’s 
hand : I answered the enclosed, stating that the 
proposal was accepted with pleasure, but under 
the seal of strict secrecy.” 

She felt a vertigo in her head as she read these 
simple lines. She found it difficult to shut the 
drawer, and when attempting to quit the room her 
limbs trembled under her, and she tottered as she 
walked. When she reached an adjacent room she 
fell upon a sofa and pulled the bell-cord for assist- 
ance. Her sister Maria and two female servants 
rushed into the room. They sprinkled her face with 
eau-de-cologne and restored her to consciousness. 
Her swoon was attributed to the mental distress 
which her brother’s disappearance occasioned, and 
the marchioness never suspected that her most im- 
portant secret was known to her daughter. 

When we remember that Amelia was acquainted 
with Julian from his infancy, that she esteemed 


474 Himter of the Alps, 

and loved him sincerely^ that she heard him eulo- 
gized on all sides as a most accomplished young 
man, ^hen we consider, too, that Julian was a 
most desirable match, owing to his excellent quali- 
ties, his moral virtues, and social position, his for- 
tune and his comeliness, we may easily imagine the 
effect the discovery she had just made must pro- 
duce in Amelia’s soul. The young lady had been 
educated under the maternal eye, far from the flat- 
teries and snares of the world. The pestiferous 
breath of the maxims which theatrical composi- 
tions abound in, and which are exhaled by licen- 
tious books had never ruffled her imagination. . 
She was totally unacquainted with the petty malice, 
the mean dissimulations, the small perfidies with 
which young people manage to deceive themselves 
when fancying they deceive the vigilance of their 
mother. She had no experience of those follies, 
those levities, those coquetries which often occa- 
sion tears of blood. 

This innocence did not prevent Amelia from pos- 
sessing a face, a figure, an education, and a for- 
tune which excited envy in those witty Phillises, 
those scented Ariadnes, who are accustomed to 
turn candor into ridicule as the crows disparage 
the snowy whiteness of the dove. 

It is idle to deny that the discovery and reading 
of the letter of the Countess Leonie deeply troubled 
Amelia, and caused her great anxiety. Thinking 
that she had unwittingly abused her mother’s con- 
fidence, she experienced the keenest remorse ; she 
was so sorry to have committed an action so un- 


The Hunter of the Alps, 475 

worthy of her, that she could no longer face the 
presence of the marchioness with her usual sereni- 
ty. She imagined that when her mother looked 
at her she beheld in her face the offence of her 
guiltless curiosity. Before her mother she assumed 
a melancholy air, under which she concealed her 
poignant remorse, as the unknown, fate of 
Achilles seemed to justify and explain her sadness. 

The reader will therefore readily conceive that 
she was deeply interested in Julian, and yearned 
to hear some definite news of him. She frequently 
desired her mother to write to the countess to know 
what had become of him, but she feared to broach 
the subject. However, on account of her light, inno- 
cent, girlish character, and, perhaps, also her want 
of knowledge of the world, she considered that she 
should regard Julian thenceforth as one of the 
family, and love him, and be as familiar with him 
as she was with her own brother Achilles. Hence, 
no sooner did she see him standing on the plaza 
than she approached him, and, calling him by 
name, tapped him on the shoulder. The gentle 
girl imagined that Julian knew the mystery as 
well as herself, but in this she was egregiously de- 
ceived. 



CHAPTER LXIIT. 

A QUESTION. 

After they had retired to the shade, J ulian was 
pestered and overwhelmed by a deluge of questions. 
He scarce knew what to do or what to say. The 
Marquis Alphonsus, a man of a very serious charac- 
ter, singularly taciturn, at present wholly bewild^ 
ered by the freak of his son Achilles, was nevei 
‘done asking him : 

‘‘How comes ifc that you are here without the 
countess, your mother ? ” 

J ulian, as we have already remarked, knew not 
what to say, and only answered the questions in the 
most equivocal manner. He was even less able to 
give a plausible answer to the running fire of ques- 
tions kept up by the marchioness and her two 
daughters, less tolerable even than this everlasting : 
“But why?” 

Poor J ulian, placed as he was between the anvil 
and the sledge, was firmly decided to disclose none 
of his adventures, but equally resolved to tell no 
untruth. He therefore had recourse to every 
means to meet all questions in a satisfactory man- 
ner, without infringing on veracity. 

476 



The Hiiìiter of the Alps. 477 

You have left the countess at Arona then ?” 
demanded the lady, as she looked at him sternly, 
and seemed to read every lineament of his coun- 
tenance. 

Yes ma’ain ; she wrote me from Arona, saying 
that we should meet one another.” 

She wrote you ? But then why are you not 
together ? ” 

And how long have you been at Milan ? ” asked 
Amelia. 

‘‘ Have you been long at Arona P They say it is 
an exceedingly beautiful city. Was Natalie there 
also ?” enquired in turn the younger of the two sis- 
ters. 

“Silence, children !” interrupted the marchion- 
ess; “let Julian answer your mother. Tell me, 
Julian, when did you leave home ; for, remember, 
I have written to your mother from Marseilles ? ” 

“What, do you come from such a long dis- 
tance ?” demanded Julian, seizing the occasion to 
ask a question in turn. 

“If you knew, Julian ! if you knew him ! ” ex- 
claimed Marie sadly. 

“ Keep silence ; he has enough of trouble not to 
give him any more,” remarked Amelia in elbowing 
her indignantly. 

“Achilles ran away from college. It has been 
said that these infamous rascals lured him away 
and induced him to join the army. I don’t know 
where he is,” added the marquis with indigna- 
tion. 

“This is why we are tossed about on this jour- 


478 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


11 ey. 0 Julian ! could you but for a passing in- 
stant imagine what we are compelled to suffer/’ 
resumed Marie. ^^See how the heart of poor 
mamma is broken I ” 

None can regret it more intensely than I do/^ 
answered Julian, as, on hearing the unwelcome 
news, he changed all the colors of the rainbow. 

How good-hearted Julian is !” remarked Ame- 
lia, as she flung on him a glance, not only of sym- 
pathy but of love. 

J'rue, true, indeed ! I have lost my boy Achil- 
les, and for the past six weeks I have not known a 
moment’s happiness,” answered the Marchioness 
Helena, who, with her eyes flxed on Julian, observed 
all the rapid changes that appeared on his counte- 
nance. 

‘‘I am of opinion, madame,” mildly observed 
Julian, “ that we have selected an unpleasant sub- 
ject of conversation. In what hotel are you stay- 
ing ? ” 

‘‘ At the European Hotel, whither we must go 
immediately,” answered Amelia, as she again 
took Julian’s arm. “You are coming with us, 
Julian, are you not ? You must stay with us while 
we are in town.” 

“The European Hotel, do you say ? I was not 
aware that there was a European Hotel in Milan.” 

Come on and you will see,” said Alphonsus. 

“ I am sorry that we have .already dined,” re- 
plied Marie. 

“Oh! we can dine again when we reach the 
hotel,” answered her sister. “ Come on, Julian.” 


The Hunter of the Alps, 479 

‘‘Well, then, you go ahead with your fiihor 
and sister ; I have something to say to Julian,” 
spoke the marchioness to her daughter. 

The daughter, by no means welcoming the com- 
mand, answered : 

“ Mamma, there is no reason why we cannot both 
walk with J ulian, I have a multitude of questions 
to ask him anent his sister Natalie.” 

“ Did you not hear what I told you, Amelia ? ” 
replied the mother. 

“Yes, but has not Julian two arms — one for 
you and one for me,” urged the pretty girl as she 
flung a smiling, glance at Julian. 

“No ; you do as I told you,” answered the mar- 
chioness with stern and dignified look. 

“Well, all right ; but I shall only stay away for 
a few minutes, mamma, I have some things to 
ask J ulian also.” 

J ulian smiled good-naturedly at the observation 
of the artless girl. Neither did he care to enter 
into a conversation with the marchioness, as he 
instinctively knew that the subject of the conver- 
sation would bo anent the offence he had commit- 
ted. Holding himself on his guard, he remarked, 
in order to turn the topic of conversation : 

“ How sprightly and lively ’Amelia is I But 
where are the two little boys ? ” 

“ I have left them in care of my sister. But, 
Julian, let us turn to another subject. You seem 
to be no longer yourself ; you are the very picture 
of woe. You have not as yet told me where is the 
countess, your mothe-r, how it comes that you have 


480 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


preceded her to Milan, and. what is the cause of 
your extraordinary separation. What is the news, 
Julian ? T)o not forget that I cared for you when 
yet a child, that I cloyed you with kisses and loved 
you to excess ; you should therefore be frank with 
me, and confess everything.” 

shall tell you all, my good lady. It is a 
question of a certain affair that compelled my pre- 
sence here. You must know that amid this deluge 
of troops one must walk with precaution ; besides, 
women are no lovers of the cannon or the bayonet.” 

presume that the affair you allude to is of su- 
preme importance. 1 am amazed that the Count 
James entrusted you with it.” 

‘^Well, he is himself suffering sharply from 
rheumatism.” 

^‘But, Julian,” interrupted the marchioness, 
will you please be so good as to tell us what is the 
nature of this important affair ? ” 

‘^Madame, I. observe that you take great inte- 
rest in my welfare, and I beg leave to assure you 
that I am deeply thankful therefor ; but pray tell 
me all about Achilles, and how he came to run 
away from college.” 

‘^Ahl do not open up so sore a wound. At 
the hotel I will give you all the information in 
connection with the affair — our run to Paris, 
Florence, Genoa, and Alessandria, and subse- 
quently to Florence and Turin. But what I wish 
to find out, Julian, is the fact of your presenca 
in Milan. You will, I trust, pardon me for asking 
such a question ; but you know wc mothers are 


The Hunter of the Alps, 481 

singularly suspicious, especially when it is a ques- 
tion of our sons, and you know that I have lost 
my darling hoy Achilles. And observe that I have 
heard something about you, Julian, something that 
caused me exquisite pain. In the month of Feb- 
ruary last your Aunt Olympia wrote me, and told 
me something which amazed me. You will not, I 
trust,, grow angry if I convey to you the intelligence 
I allude to.’’ 

Certainly not, madame ; speak freely and un- 
reservedly,” answered Julian, as a crimson tinge 
mantled his pallid cheek. 

Why are you so nervous and excited ? ” 

‘‘ Oh ! I am wearied and fatigued.” 

^^Your aunt wrote me a note in hurried haste, 
wherein she said that all harmony between your 
mother and you was broken, and a cold cloud of 
misunderstanding hung between you both.” 

What ! ” answered J ulian in nervous tone ; I 
am amazed at the idea of my aunt writing such 
malicious balderdash.” 

Why, Julian, I am surprised to hear you talk- 
ing in such a manner ! Do you mean to deny that 
there is at least a shadow of reality in that which 
you are pleased to term malicious balderdash ? ” 
urged the marchioness with a mingled smile of 
doubt and sarcasm. 

Ho, ho ! Amelia is coming back,” replied 
Julian hurriedly and with marked surprise. “ Do 
not be bashful, you are always welcome to my pre- 
sence.” 

And as he spoke he offered her his arm, beside 


482 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


himself with joy that she returned so apropos to 
put a speedy end to the cross-examination to which 
the marchioness had so inexorably subjected him. 
The Countess Helena flung a flashing glance of re- 
buke at her daughter, and dropped the conversation 
on the instant, and coldly passed to another topic. 

The gentle girl flew from subject to subject in 
her innocent babble, and in her affectionate sim- 
plicity, girlish oiaìvetéf and harmless familiarity 
elicited the indignation of her mother, who from 
time to time cast on her a look of reprimand ; whilst 
at the same time her observations excited the sur- 
prise of Julian, who by nature was somewhat taci- 
turn and reserved. But on the present occasion 
he preferred the hum of the fly to the sting of the 
asp. 

But — why should we furthermore conceal it? — the 
marchioness at the first glance conceived certain 
suspicions, and each remark induced her to believe 
that Julian’s presence in Milan was not the result 
of an accident, but that, on the contrary, he was the 
victim of the same course of folly that ruined her 
son Achilles. She had ever entertained a lofty 
opinion of Julian’s shrewdness and judgment ; but, 
despite all this, the minutiae of their conversation, 
the mental agitation of Julian, his timid looks, the 
evident embarrassment of his answers, all combin- 
ed to augment the suspicions and uneasiness of the 
marchioness. 

Julian at once perceived this black suspicion 
clouding the lady’s countenance. Pretending to be 
delighted with the presence of Amelia, he utilized 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


483 


her as a shield in order to resist the arrows of the 
marchioness. Amelia, in the excess of her artless 
simplicity, became so familiar with Julian that to 
one who did not understand her her conduct might 
perhaps seem reprehensible. 

When they placed foot on the hotel porch the 
marchioness, in high dudgeon and indignation, 
availed herself of the opportunity when Julian 
stopped to speak with Alphonsus with adroit deli- 
cacy to detach her daughter from Julian’s aim, and 
dryly told her to retire to her room and stay there. 
Amelia forthwith obeyed, but with girlish poutish- 
ness. 

Julian, whose brain throbbed with mental ex- 
citement, was unaware of the order which the mar- 
chioness, in a hasty moment, had issued. He ap- 
proached a servant, and, as usual, enquired for 
news anent his mother. 

The servant forthwith replied : 

Sir, it is not the countess, but Count James of 
— , who came here the other day accompanied by 
his son. He left yesterday to return to his home in 
the Eomagna.” 

‘MVhat do you say? The Count James of — , 
who lives in the city of — ?” 

Yes, sir.” 

And his son ?” 

^‘Yes.” 

But he has no son ! ” answered the young man 
amazedly. 

Of that I am not certain. Come inside and 
•glance over the hotel register.” 


484 


The Hunter of the. Alps. 


The servant, on being questioned, answered seve- 
ral more enquiries. 

Where are you going, Julian ? ” asked the mar- 
quis, who chanced to meet him on the stairs. 
“ You seem terribly excited.” 

“I ? My mind is preoccupied certainly about 
the arrival of my mother, whom I hourly expect to 
meet, but who, unhappily, does not come.” 

“How the deuce does it happen that your mo- 
ther did not write to you and inform you of the 
day of her arrival ? Now, as for me, I cannot un- 
derstand it. 1 would like to have a confidential 
conversation with her ; hut I have to dine two 
hours hence with a major-general, and I deeply re- 
gret that I must part with you so abruptly. Hele- 
na awaits you up -stairs; you promised, I believe, 
that you were to dine with us to-day.” 

“ A thousand thanks, my dear sir, hut I really 
cannot promise, nor can I make any engagement ; 
for you know — ” 

“ But where are you boarding, my boy ? You can 
tell me that at least.” 

“ I am at present staying with a friend.” 

“ Oh ! jou have then friends in Milan ? I am 
glad to learn it. But may I take the liberty of ask- 
ing who is this friend ? ” 

“You do not know him,” answered Julian, as he 
vainly endeavored to turn the topic of conversation, 
as a drowning man would grasp at a straw ; “ hut 
if you wish to make his acquaintance — ” 

“No, no ; I have too many irons in the fire to- 
day. Act as you please. Should you dine with us. 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


485 


it will afford us the greatest pleasure ; if you do 
not, we expect you to-morrow. And, above all, I 
ask you to inform me of your mother's arrival, 
should she come.” 

“ You need not entertain the slightest doubt on 
that head.” 

‘^Will she take up her residence with that 
friend of whom you spoke to me about a moment 
since ? ” 

I think not. On her arrival we shall in all pro- 
bability engage a suite of rooms here.” 

Good ! Au revoir ! 



CHAPTER LXIV. 


POOR AMELIA. 

There existed no longer room for doubt. Tho 
register of the European Hotel of Milan that Ju- 
lian referred to bore the name, surname, and resi- 
dence of Count James and of his son. Julian at 
once recognized the hand-writing of his uncle. He 
passed through Milan, he stayed for a day at the 
hotel before mentioned, and left at an early hour on 
the previous evening. 

^‘Confound it!’’ cried Julian, ^^just to think 
that I visited every hotel in the city yesterday save 
this one ! ” 

He grew livid with disappointment. Who could 
recount the castles in the air built, the foolish and 
melancholy ideas generated in the brain of our Chas- 
seur of the Alps by this journey of the count and 
his pretended son ? His mother, his sister, their 
sufferings, their anguish, such were the thoughts 
that occupied his mind. And then the mar- 
chioness awaiting him up-stairs, ready to inflict 
on him anew a martyrdom, and which he knew 
not how to avoid. 

What kind of a lad was the boy, his son, who 
486 


The Hu7iter of the Alps, 487 

accompanied Count James of — ?” asked Julian of 
of one the servants as he was about to ascend to the 
apartments of the marchioness. 

What Count James ? The gentleman from the 
Komagna who left here last evening ? ” 

Exactly.” 

His son, did you say ? ” 

Yes, his son. Was he a big boy ?” 

Oh 1 by no means ; he was quite young, -with 
sparkling black eyes — as pretty a boy as you could 
wish to see.” 

“ Thanks, madame.” And he passed out, seized, 
overwhelmed, and beside himself with amazement. 

How strange are the oddities of human destiny ! 
The Count J ames travelled through all Lombardy 
in search of his nephew, Julian. He found Achil- 
les, for whom he was not seeking, effected his 
exemption from the Garibaldian service, and re- 
stored him to his parents safe and well. Alphon- 
sus, his wife, and two daughters flew from city to 
city in search of his son Achilles, and unex- 
pectedly dropped on Julian in Milan, invited him 
to dine on the same evening in the very hotel that 
Count James had left a few hours before. 

0 my dear Julian ! how sad you look. You 
cannot conceive how deeply I am interested in you. 
Where have you been ? Bo seated ; put aside all 
ceremony,” said the marchioness as she pointed, 
in addressing Julian, to a sofa hard by. 

A thousand pardons, madame. I would have 
come up sooner were it not that the marquis de- 
tained me down-stairs.” 


488 The Hunter of the Alps. 

‘^But how pale you look, my dear boy !” ex- 
claimed the marchioness as she stared him with 
half-affrighted gaze. 

Julian, what is the matter ? You are not your- 
self at all ! Act toward me as you would toward 
your mother; you know the love I bear you.” 

^‘Nothing is the matter with me, madame. Do 
not be in the least alarmed, I pray. I am some- 
what fatigued, and the sweltering heat literally 
prostrates me.” 

But there is something the matter with you,” 
urged the lady in tremulous tone. ^^The mother’s 
intuitive eye penetrates deeper than a son can 
dream. I can read on your haggard brow a lesson 
that you cannot sec. You had better take a little 
refreshment, a goblet of Bordeaux wine.” 

Oh ! do not trouble yourself in the least. I am 
really in need of nothing.” 

All in vain ! The waiting-maid, who had been 
summoned, entered the room. Amelia followed 
her, bearing in her hand a plate laden with countr 
less delicacies, which, with girlish graciousness, 
she presented to Julian, and then seated her- 
self by his side ; but her mother, with rebuking 
glance, intimated that she should leave the room. 
The child obeyed unmurmuringly ; but she had 
scarce gone out of one door when she re-entered by 
another, and, returning to Julian’s presence, for- 
getful of her mother’s orders, sat down beside him, 
poured him out a glowing goblet of sparkling wine 
with a smile which concentred the volumed swell 


The Hu7iter of the Alps, 


489 


of love. The marchioness, on observing this un- 
usual familiarity, flushed with indignation, and 
cast on her daughter a glance withering as the 
lightning. But that glance was disregarded. Ke- 
clining on the cushion, she continued coquettishly 
to chat with Julian, while her eyes beamed smiles 
and spoke volumes of love, to the ineffable mortifi- 
cation of her mother. 

The lady scarce knew what to think of this an- 
noyance, or rather levity, which Amelia never 
evinced before. She was deeply chagrined, and en- 
deavored, though in vain, by glance and gesture 
to restrain her daughter’s boldness and reduce her 
to a Quaker-like quiet. 

Despite her just indignation, she sought to con- 
ceal her anger, as she wished not to lower her 
daughter’s estimation in the mind of Julian, as she 
wished her one day to become his wife. She feared 
lest if Amelia, in the presence of Julian, was not 
more reserved, he would deem her a creature given, 
up to levity and affectation. Furthermore, the 
marchioness was somewhat embarrassed and put 
out by the presence of her daughter at a moment 
when she wished to question Julian on a subject of 
supreme importance. She grew nervously impa- 
tient at the manner in which Amelia seemed to 
slight. her instructions. 

A few mornenis elapsed in copious small-talk, 
and Julian, struggling belween the two mill-stones 
of the cross-cx.iftiination of the marchioness and 
the more intercbiing babble of her pretty daughter, 


490 


The lliuiter of the Alps, 


inwardly meditated as to how he coaid extricate 
himself from the labyrinth wherein he was confined, 
rejoin his friend Adrian, and write a note to his 
comrade Maso. He began by drawing on his 
gloves, but the gentle girl, who watched his every 
move with eagle glance, observing on his finger a 
ring adorned with a shining brilliant, which he 
had purchased the foregoing evening, exclaimed : 

‘‘What a pretty ring that is you have, Julian ! 
Please let me see and examine it at my leisure.” 

He immediately drew it from his finger and pre- 
sented it to her, while her mother’s eyes grew hu 
stinct with indignation. Seeing that her daughter 
took no notice of her reprimanding glance, Madame 
Helena arose, approached her daughter, and with 
quiet brusqueness whispered in her ear to leave the 
room forthwith. 

“Oh ! what a pretty ring this is anyhow,” cried 
Amelia as she adjusted the ring on her own finger, 
from which she drew off her own. 

“ Why, it fits me exactly. You need not expect 
to get it back. I am going to keep it, but PII give 
you mine in exchange for it. I guess it will fit 
you.” 

“ It is none of my purpose to accept anything in 
exchange for my trifling ring, Amelia. I volun- 
tarily present it to you, and shall be most happy to 
see you wear it, but yours — ” 

“Pardon her, my dear Julian,” remarked the 
lady in a half-embarrassed and compassionate tone. 
“ Amelia has fallen into a vein of light levity and 
good humor to-day, but it has gone far enough. 


491 


The Hunter of the Alps. 

Give back that ring, and go at once and rejoin 
your sister Marie.” 

‘‘ His ring ? Here’s bis ring ! ” 

And she held out the shining brilliant, but re- 
tained Julian’s. 

‘‘ Come, Julian,” resumed the marchioness with 
angry air, which she vainly tried to conceal, take 
back this ring on my account, and stop all further 
foolishness.” 

Thanks, madame,” he replied, as he drew back 
his hand good-humoredly, for he observed the lady’s 
embarrassment. I never exchange anything with 
anybody.” < 

Do you hear that, you impertinent little imp ? 
Julian has taught you a good lesson how to conduct 
yourself.” 

Oh ! pshaw, Julian refuses that ring just be^ 
cause — ” 

Please do us the favor of leaving us alone, my 
dear child. Go and help your sister to pack up 
the trunks, for it is now growing late.” 

Why, what time is it ? ” 

It is three o’clock,” said Julian, who had again 
drawn on his gloves without taking back his ring, 
and looked at his precious little watch. 

Oh ! what a handsome watch,” exclaimed Ame- 
lia as she seized it with coquettish naivete. 

Julian said nothing, but looked on and smiled, 
while Amelia’s mother grew pale with mortification. 
The girl, in an ecstasy of delight, scanned the pre- 
cious little timepiece, and then, being evidently 
reluctant to give it back, said : 


492 


The Hwiter of the Alps. 


If instead of this I give you my watch — an ex- 
cellent English one set in diamonds — what would 
you say ? ’’ 

Oh ! I couldn’t think for a moment with part- 
ing with this,” said J ulian laughingly. 

Why, do you think that this one of mine will 
give you the heartache ? ” 

Julian blushed deeply and cast his eyes on the 
ground. The mother could no longer restrain her- 
self. With irrepressible indignation she approach- 
ed Amelia and administered to her a severe rebuke. 
The girl at once grew silent. Julian, rising from 
the sofa, gracefully bowed to the marchioness, who 
endeavored to detain him, and retreated with hur- 
ried step. 

The same day, about six o’clock in the evening, 
the Marquis Alphonsus dined with his family in a 
small salon at the European Hotel, over which, at 
the moment wo speak of, a sepulchral silence reign- 
ed. He had returned more desolate and discou- 
raged than ever after his conversation with the 
Piedmontese officer, from whom he sought infor- 
mation anent the lot and whereabouts of Achilles. 
Having heard the foolish though harmless manner 
in which his daughter acted, the humiliation that 
her mother had suffered, and the abrupt departure 
of Julian, he experienced a sting of anger which 
ho found it impossible to hide. Madame Helena 
was still deeply embarrassed, while her daughter was 
a victim of poutishness. AVhile at dinner a ser- 
vant approached the marchioness and presented 
her a note which he boro on a silver tray. Every 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


493 


eye, even the glance of Amelia, was concentrated 
on the marchioness, who, as she hastily scanned 
the missive, changed all the colors of the rain- 
bow. 

Who gave you this note ?” she asked the ser- 
Tant. 

A coachman, madame.” 

Who has written you ? ” asked Alphonsus. 

It is Julian. J ust read it,” she answered, as she 
nervously presented the note to her husband and 
flung on Amelia a killing glance. 

Julian wrote, in substance, that the disagreeable 
facts that had recently occurred imposed upon him 
the unpleasant necessity of returning no more to 
the hotel, to present his respects to the marquis and 
Miss Marie. Ho told her that he was about to return 
home immediately, as he observed that his mother 
did not come to Milan, and he thanked her for all her 
kindnesses. As to his watch, which Amelia had kept, 
he begged the marchioness not to pay the slightest 
attention to it. It belonged, to his sister, and he 
felt convinced that Natalie would be delighted to 
offer it to Marie, that she would be happy to 
know that the marchioness presented it to Marie in 
her name. He begged the marquis to accept his 
most distinguished consideration. But to Amelia 
he never referred. 

You have committed a grave error, Amelia,” 
exclaimed Alphonsus after having perused the note. 
The poor girl turned as pale as death and trembled 
like an aspen-leaf in autumn. 

Not a word about you ; he does not even men- 


494 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


tion your name ! But you may bitterly repent of 
your error by and by.’’ 

The poor girl, transfixed witli distress, silently 
looked at her father, while her heart for a moment 
almost forgot to beat. 




CHAPTER LXV. 


NOT FOUND. 

It was liiglily imprudent to have apprised the 
Countess Leonie and her guests of the return of 
Count James. Having arrived home about five 
o’clock in the afternoon with Achilles, and learned 
that his wife and two daughters were dining with 
the Countess Leonie, the count did not wish to 
cause his wife too sudden a surprise. He deemed 
it prudent to despatch a trusty servant to the resi- 
dence of the countess, and to secretly inform his 
wife of his return and request her to hasten home 
at the earliest convenient moment. While waiting 
in the parlor, a servant having asked if the Count 
James had as yet arrived, the imprudent servant 
answered that he had. The other, to make him- 
self appear big before his mistress, hurried forth- 
with to reveal the great secret. Immediately a 
regular levee en masse took place around the table, 
and every one stood on the tiptoe of excitement. 

‘‘ Yes, yes ; the count has just arrived,” answered 
Madame Olympia in reply to the questions of Flo- 
rence and the canon. ''He is arrived, but 
neither Julian nor his comrade is with him. He 
495 


49^ The Hunter of the Alps, 

has brought back the son of the Marquis of — ; 
the two others, are prisoners in the hands of the 
Austrians.” 

The scene that occurred on hearing of the ar- 
rival of the count is literally indescribable. The 
reader already knows the intense anxiety where- 
with the Countess Leonie awaited the arrivàl of 
her sou, as the telegraphic despatch sent by the 
Chevalier Eugene assured her that she might ex- 
pect him at any moment. 

This announcement had awakened so many 
emotions in her motherly heart, and so much joy 
in the soul of Leopold, that the disillusion was 
simply terrible. 

It were impossible to convey the sorrow that as- 
sailed the countess on learning that she was once 
more deceived — yea, more so than she was even 
at Turin and Chivasso ! 

Who would undertake to portray the sorrow of 
Natalie, the regret of Leopold, the childish amaze- 
ment of little Otto, the chagrin of Don Egidio, 
the lamentations of Florence, the embarrassment 
of Olympia, the astonishment of the two girls, the 
tears of the servants, and the soul-rending pertuba- 
tion of everybody ? We shall not try to depict 
this lamentable scene ; we shall pass to other 
topics, or rather we shall return on our track. 

At Como as well as at Verese the researches of 
the Count James amounted to naught. It must, 
however, be admitted that for a man of his charac- 
ter, whose blood was quicksilver, that it did not 
require a grea: cause to put him in ill-humor. 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


497 


Thiis, following tho impulse of' his imagination, 
wearied with running after shadows, set on the 
edge of anger by the recurrence of his rheumatics, 
he decided on the morning of June 7 to come to 
Milan, and thence proceed homeward, bringing 
with him his godson, Achilles, whom he delighted 
to be able to restore to his disconsolate mother. 

But what of Julian and the letter that he 
sent to Turin by the sleepy peasant. Procope, to 
Chevalier Eugene, giving his sister-in-law good 
news of her son Julian ? The letter referred to 
was the iron that had entered his soul and racked 
his throbbing brain. 

‘‘ISTow, is it any of my fault if all this trouble 
has occurred ? ” he half-angrily said to Achilles, 
who endeavored to calm him in his excitement. 

Is it, I repeat, any of my fault if this foolish boy 
fled from home ; if a crowd of parrot-praters have 
denounced me with mechanical balderdash; if, with 
the honest design of quieting his mother, I wrote 
that ill-conceived letter ? Poor lady ! no wonder 
that she is wasting slowly away under her weight 
of woe. But I again reiterate that it is no fault 
of mine.” 

And the good man but spoke the truth. He had 
indeed neglected no means to find his nephew, and 
if ho did address a few lines of consolation to 
Leonie, it was but the outcome of a generous heart. 
Besides the information he received at Como w'as 
of a character to induce him to believe that success 
would shortly crown his efforts. 

Another reason compelled him to believe that 


4gS The Hunter of the Alps» 

the best thing he could do was to get home as soon 
as possible, for he was there expected daily. He 
had found no reason to induce him to think that 
his nephew or Maso had fallen in the skirmish of 
San Fermo or in the rout of Gayeno. On the con- 
trary, the answers of the majority of those whom he 
consulted gave him cause to think that the two 
lads had been made prisoners by the Austrians, a 
fact of which he had been assured by certain mem- 
bers of the volunteers. Such being the case, there 
was no means of delivering them from Lombardy, 
as the Austrians had evacuated it in haste. It was 
necessary, under the prevailing circumstances, to 
visit their camp on the border of the Mincio, no 
very easy matter. It seemed more certain of suc- 
cess to have recourse to some influential official of 
the Komagna, a province yet in their keeping. 
This last mode of procedure seemed the easiest and 
at the same time appeared to present the greatest 
chances of success. 

The count was under the impression that his 
nephew was certainly an Austrian prisoner. He 
determined to inform the countess of the fact with 
positive assurance, and he gave every one to whom 
he spoke to understand that Julian was a prisoner 
of war. 

It was while laboring under this impression that 
he sent the intelligence alluded to to his wife. 

Ah ! do not try to deceive me with your soft 
words. Do not amuse yourself with my sorrow. 
Julian is dead ! He is surely dead ! I can believe 
nothing else. Do not laugh at my sorrow. You 


The Hiinter of the Alps, 499 

cannot read the anguish of a mother’s heart on 
having lost her only boy ! ” 

In these incoherent words, inspired by despair, 
the countess, in a state of the most deplorable 
desolation, as she sat almost helplessly in her arm- 
chair, received the Count James, who, apprised 
of the terrible distress of Leonie by his wife, had 
hastened to convey to her a few words of consola- 
tion. 

Do not be so troubled ! There is no reason 
why you should give yourself up to vain fears, or 
to the dread begotten of too lively an imagination,” 
answered the count as he affectionately pressed her 
hand. 

Leonie retired in a brusque and almost sullen 
manner, exclaiming as she withdrew to the Count 
J ames : 

I do not wish to have any more conversation 
with you; you are cruel and unfeeling, and care 
not for a mother’s affections. Julian is a prisoner. 
Do you dare to deny it ? Why did you endeavor to 
deceive me by your telegraphic despatch ? Why did 
you inform me through the Chevalier Eugene that 
he was safe and well, and that you would restore 
him to me in a few days ? Heaven ! thus to mock 
a mother’s feelings who but lives by almost a mira- 
cle, sustained by the breath of hope. I had rather 
my heart was pierced with a sword. Then I could 
once more meet my poor Julian ! He is dead ! I 
know he is dead ! ” 

But, Leonie, ,I beg you to calm your feelings 
and listen to me for a moment ? ” 


5CX) The Hunter of the Alps, 

No, ril listen to no more deceitful nonsense. I 
do not wish to spend another moment in your 
presence ; you have rent my very heart ! 0 my 

poor Julian ! if you had not prevented me from 
going to look for him, I would have him in my 
arms ere now.” 

0 uncle, do not take any notice of my 
mother ; she knows not what she is doing,” sobbed 
Natalie, her eyes suffused with tears, as she grasped 
the count’s arm and led him from the room. 

The count, though highly indignant at the un- 
deserved rebuke he had received, could not resist 
the pleading of the angelic Natalie, whose face 
grew a thousandfold more lovely in her tears, and 
at once grew calm, carressed her tenderly, and left 
the room with her. Leopold, sad and silent, also 
rose and followed the count, while the little lad 
Otto, filled with amaze, tripped after him. Seating 
themselves in an adjoining room the count and 
Leopold entered into a conversation on the recent 
journey of the former. 




CHAPTER LXVI. 

A PATHETIC SCENE. 

The unexaggerated account we have given of the 
reception given to Count James by Leonie will 
}ifford the reader an idea of the moral aberration 
that had taken possession of her mind and utterly 
prostrated her. We shall not, therefore, describe 
at greater length the anguish of this unhappy lady, 
broken down, almost annihilated, by the excess of 
her emotions. We shall confine ourselves to the 
events that follow. 

The countess passed the entire evening in the 
darkest mood of mind, refusing to see any one save 
her daughter, from whom, however, she would not 
receive a single word of consolation. On the fol- 
lowing day, June 12, she was unable to leave her 
bed. At an early hour of the morning Mr. Leo- 
pold left and set out for Tuscany, to offer his deso- 
late wife a few words of illusory hope. 

During this painful separation Julian’s mother 
and Maso’s father both wept like children. They 
promised mutually to send any news to one an- 
other that they should learn. Then the countess, 
ever noble and courteous notwithstanding her de- 
lirious grief, heartily thanked Leopold for the 
501 


502 The Himter of the Alps. 

brotherly love which Maso had unceasingly evinced 
towards Julian, and, being unable to restrain the 
affection that deluged her heart, she grasped in her 
arms little Otto and kissed him with that over- 
powering love which none but a mother can feel. 
Taking a little cross set in dazzling diamonds, 
hanging from a golden chain, which belonged to 
Julian when a child, she placed it on the neck of 
Otto, with the remark : 

Here, my pretty boy ; may this little cross ever 
recall to thy mind the friend of your poor lost 
brother and his unhappy mother ! Otto, do not 
forget to beseech God and his ever blessed Mother 
for Julian’s safety.” 

The little lad nodded in assent. 

And,” she added, when you learn that I am no 
more in the land of the living you will not, I trust, 
forget to offer up a ^ De Profundis ’ for the re- 
pose of my soul.” 

^‘But why do you want to die ?” answered the 
child in the height .of amazement. 

The good lady heaved a deep sigh, and kindly 
bade adieu to the father and child, who left and 
took the route for the Apennines. 

During the course of the. afternoon the countess 
asked for Achilles, and expressed her desire to see 
him. Madame Olympia and Natalie introduced 
the youth. Natalie preceded both to the foot of 
the stairs. The fugitive collegian, despite his pre- 
tended nonchalance, blushed and grew evidently 
embarrassed on approaching Leonie. 

And you also, you have acted the foolish part, 


The Hunter of the Alps. 503 

my dear Achilles/’ she kiudly observed as she 
placed her hand on his shoulder. And you have 
no news from your father, from the marcliioness, 
or your sisters.” 

“ None, madam ; but I hope to be relieved by my 
godfather at any hour, from this horrid mode of 
life. He has written to papa, volunteering to re- 
store me to my home ; but as soon as they have re- 
ceived the letters they will certainly come hither.” 

Oh ! how I would wish to see your mother once 
more. It would be such a great heart-relief in the 
midst of my affliction !” 

Eemaiuing in a pensive mood for a few moments, 
she resumed : 

'^Oh ! how my heart would bound with joy did 
I know that Julian was still living. How true is 
it that man proposes and God disposes ! What joy 1 
what hope ! and then — naught but a dream ! Achil- 
les, how many years are you younger than Amelia ?” 

Two years.” 

You are then hfteen years of age ?” 

Yes, madame.” 

‘‘ Six months younger than Natalie. Amelia is 
just eight months younger than Julian. What a 
beautiful pair ! My poor Julian, taken away from 
me in the heyday of his youth, and as he was about 
to pass through the portal of happiness ! But the 
good God will relieve my tribulations, and restore 
to me beyond the skies the object of my earthly 
love.” 

Achilles looked at her in amazement. Suddenly 
quite a commotion was heard, a hurried running 


504 The Hunter of the Alps, 

to and fro, and. cries that betokened astonishment 
and pain. 

It was another dagger in the heart of the coun- 
tess. Her daughter had fallen into a swoon, and, 
though prompt succor had been rendered, a feverish 
spell prostrated her, which, though not serious, 
alarmed all members of the household. It was oc- 
casioned by the shock consequent on the scene that 
occurred between her mother and her Uncle James 
the previous evening and the pain caused by see- 
ing her mother in such a desperate state of distrac- 
tion. She was placed in bed and tenderly cared for. 
The countess, wildly affected, insisted that she 
should be put in her own room. Vainly the physi- 
cian, besought to send Natalie to the residence of 
her Aunt Olympia, where she could enjoy a little 
mental relaxation ; for her illness was not, as we 
have observed, of a serious character, and to cure it 
required but a change of place and a cessation of 
mental worriment. But Leonie would not for an 
instant listen to any such proposal. 

To send her to my sister’s!” she exclaimed; 
not to let her stay with me ! No, no ; I shall not 
allow any such thing. As long as I live my daugh- 
ter, the very counterpart of my poor lost Julian, 
shall not quit my side ! I wish you to know that 
I mean what I say. She is the treasure of his soul, 
the gem of his heart ! And you think I could, for 
even a passing moment, let her be removed from 
me ? Why, she is the very embodiment of Julian. 
He rests in her heart and mine.” 

^‘Have a care, countess; she may grow Avorsc,” 


The Hunter of the Alps. 505 

replied the doctor, as be looked at the delicate girl, 
who on hearing her mother’s remark grew ex- 
tremely melancholy. 

‘"You see the condition she is in, madame, “he 
continued. “ Seriously speaking, do you for a mo- 
ment think that you can conscientiously act so 
prejudicially to the health of your daughter ? 

“ I tell you plainly, countess, that if you adhere 
to your present resolve I shall not assume any re- 
sponsibility for you or your daughter. You can, if 
you reject my advice, employ another physician.” 

“ 0 doctor ! you do not understand me. You 
intimate that my hours on earth are well-nigh 
counted ! Anent that, however, I have nothing to 
say. God will soon relieve me from all my suffer- 
ings by calling me to heaven, where I shall meet my 
son ; for assuredly I have gone through my purga- 
torial trials here. As for Julian, he was so good, 
so innocent, so pure, that he must, in accordance 
with divine justice, be in heaven. When I am no 
more my sister Olympia can act as a mother to- 
ward Natalie, but not before.” 

“ Sister, be careful,” replied Olympia with emo- 
tion ; “ if you continue to act- as you are doing, you 
will be the death of Natalie ! ” 

“ Pshaw ! I would be the death of her were I to 
deceive her as the Count James deceived me with 
regard to J ulian. She must soon prepare to see her 
mother die ; wherefore, then, should I deceive her ? 
Yes, my time on earth is but short ! ” 

The poor girl turned pale at this ill-conceived 
observation of her mother. It was a heart-rending . 


5o6 The Hunter of the Alps» 

sceuc. Bursting into tears, Olympia endeavored to 
take Natalie from the bed whereon she lay, when 
her mother, rising from her couch, exclaimed : 

‘‘Oh ! do not take my daughter from me. After 
poor Julian, she is the only one left me. I shall 
never again speak as I have just spoken ! ” 

Olympia ceased, and, approaching the bed of her 
sister, asked her to promise that she would never 
thenceforward talk in such a foolish strain. 

Leonie at once promised. 

“ Well, then, I shall not remove Natalie from 
your presence, but do not speak with such wanton 
foolishness in future, causing your dearest unneces- 
sary pain.’’ 

The promise was duly observed. The countess 
soon grew more calm ; the cloud which fogged her 
mind, ordinarily so lucid, began to dissipate. She 
appeared to be more content, and less agitated ; so 
much so, indeed, that all her attendants were sur- 
prised. Trembling on the very verge of delirium 
as she was, her mind became now filled with a sad 
tranquillity, which vented itself occasionally in 
sighs, fervent prayers, and tender appeals to her 
son. No more bursts of womanish ill-temper, no 
more complaints, no more reproaches, no more 
bitter recriminations, no more dark imaginings. 

She had become herself once more, but she 
would suffer no one, not even Don Egidio, to speak 
to her of Julian save as of one dead. This fixed 
and immutable idea was riveted in her throbbing 
brain, and -the endeavor to eliminate it were an im- 
possible experiment. Happily her daughter, less 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


507 


obstinate and more reasonable than ber mother, 
had more confidence in their uncle James. She 
fully believed that her brother still lived, and that 
he was a prisoner at Verona, as her uncle had given 
her to understand. She besought him earnestly to 
exercise every means to restore her brother to his 
abandoned home. 

The Count James, truth to tell, required no 
stimulant to effect the restoration of his nephew. 
Too well he knew that no time was to be lost, and 
that by quick action he should preclude the possi- 
bility of any accident resulting from the deplorable 
condition of the countess. 

Taking the advantage of a moment when the 
countess was in a calm condition, he had himself 
introduced to her notice through the good offices of 
Don Egidio. The countess graciously consented to 
receive him, with an air of half-cold severity, but 
with womanly tenderness. She intimated to him 
in whispering tone, so that Natalie might not over- 
hear them, with marked simplicity : 

James, my daughter has conveyed to me in- 
telligence which has caused me great pain. As 
you are aware, I used certain expressions yesterday 
which were not only bitter but unjust. I regret 
having so done, and I sincerely beg pardon for 
having acted so rashly. I implore you to forget it 
if you can. It was only the outbreak of a morbid 
mind, but certainly not a^dictate of the heart. I 
offer you the expression of my most cordial thanka 
for your toil and trouble in seeking for Julian. 
You will, however, receive therefor an eternal rer 


5o8 The Hunter of the Alps, 

ward. I must give you to understand, in your qua- 
lity of guardian, the infamous perfidy evinced 
toward him by Bernard, the cabinetmaker. But it 
is none of my purpose to revive reminiscences of a 
character to rend a mother’s heart. Don Egidio 
will tell you all. However, I forgive the unhappy 
hypocrite, and I have had a number of Masses 
offered to Heaven for his soul.” 

My gracious lady,” answered the count in 
tremulous accents, as he warmly pressed her hand, 

is it possible that you can remain deaf to reason, 
and that you refuse to lend an ear to the account 
which I so earnestly wish to give you of my Jour- 
ney?” 

1 do not refuse, count ; I do not wish to shut 
my ear to your defence. It were unworthy of me 
to do so. There is no use in crying over spilled 
milk. I am sorry for the hasty manner in which 
I have acted.” 

‘^Herein, my dear countess, lies your mistake : 
you suppose that I have naught but sad news to 
communicate.” 

“ Oh ! do not strike so tender a chord. In 
knowing that Julian is dead I know all.” 

Ah 1 you only imagine that.” 

Well, let us change the subject. You can no 
longer deceive me, James. Let us turn to some 
other topic.” 

The count, who vainly tried to speak with simu- 
lated composure, dropped the theme. It was better 
for both. 

Count James for some time jiast had lost all 


509 


The Htinter of the Alps» 

hope of finding Julian, and ho wap, perhaps, more 
in need of consolation than Julian’s own mother. 
It will, therefore, not he wondered at if he admin- 
istered scant consolation. 

But a black cloud hovered over him and intensi- 
fied his despair. 




CHAPTER LXVII. 

THE TKOI/bLES OF COUNT JAMES. 

The embarrassment and depression of Count 
James originated in the following way : On the 
night following the lltli of June the Austrian 
troops in the Pontifical States suddenly marched 
out of the cities they garrisoned and advanced in 
the direction of Modena and Yenetia. The confla- 
gration of rebellion had burst into flame in several 
parts of Romagna. In other parts it growled and 
murmured in an undertone against the Governnient 
of the Holy See. All the arrangements of Count 
James were instantly disturbed and his melancholy 
and perplexity redoubled. 

This noble family could not see without regret 
the perfidy, felonies, and crimes then enacted. All 
its members had remained faithful to the Holy See, 
and willingly disposed to fulfil all the obligations 
of loyal subjects. It will, therefore, be no matter 
of surprise if the heart of Count James was 
filled with bitterness and indignation at the cow- 
ardly and impious revolts against the rights of the 
Sovereign Pontiff. 

We shall not wait to examine if the retreat of the 
Austrians from the fortress of Ancona, from Bo- 
510 


The Hunter of the Alps, 511 

logtia, and Ferrara was wise or politic. We shall 
confine ourselves to the statement that the aban- 
donment of the right bank of the Po was condemn- 
ed by the greatest living military captains ; they 
censured the evacuation of the forts of Ferrara 
and Placentia, which were admirably calculated to 
serve as a defence for the formidable quadrilateral 
of Mantua, Peschiera, Verona, and Legnago, in 
the rear of which the Austrian army, encamped 
between the Adige and the Mincio, seemed to he in 
a position to resist every shock and onset of the 
enemy. 

We shall expatiate to a certain degree on the 
political causes which determined this retreat, in 
order to inform the reader of the dark mysteries 
that guided the events of 1859. 

It had been stipulated between Austria and 
France that both should observe during this war a 
strict neutrality regarding the papal patrimony, 
which both occupied since 1849, for the professed 
purpose of protecting the tiara against both inter- 
nal and foreign foes. Despite this fact, Austria, 
subsequent to the disasters which she met with on 
the Tessine, and the march of her legions on the 
Mincio, had myriad reasons to believe herself seat- 
ed on a political volcano. Against her were leagued 
the Emperor of the French, the Piedmontese, and 
their allies — namely, all the sectaries of the Italian 
Peninsula. 

Accordingly, though France, flushed and intoxi- 
cated with victory, took care not to violate the na- 
tional honor, and scrupulously observed the condi- 


512 The Hunter of ike Alps. 

tioiis of the convention, yet no guarantee could be 
found against the perfidy of Piedmont, and especi- 
ally against the roving bands of irregulars that the 
Turin Government had levied in Tuscany; for, to 
the aforesaid irregulars, led, not commanded, by 
brutal ignoramuses, honor was a hollow-sounding 
word, and the sacredness of a treaty a big joke. 
IIow, then, could Austria, if she was possessed of 
the slightest prudence, believe that her troops 
would not be attacked by these infamous bands in 
the papal cities ? And in such circumstances what 
would be the consequences it were impossible to 
divine. We must not, then, too hastily blame the 
Austrians for withdrawing their garrisons from the 
Komagna after the defeat of Magenta. They 
could, perhaps, have delayed it a few days and ren- 
dered it less precipitate. It is a matter oi regret 
that they did not. But, in admitting that the Pon- 
tiff, duly apprised of the departure of the Austrian 
forces from the legations, would have provided 
against contingencies by sending there a sufiQcient 
though less numerous force, yet what guarantee 
could be relied on against the inroads of the Pied- 
montese ? 

The invasion of the Papal States was already de- 
creed. Even could Pius IX. with his faithful 
soldiers stop the infernal storm that tore violently 
away from him the Romagna, in June, 1859, he 
would only have succeeded in postponing for a 
brief period the massacre of Castel Eidardo. But 
wiihout a direct miracle from Ileaven, he could 
not have saved his people. 


513 


The Hunter of the Alps, 

But to return to Julian. He remained at Milan 
two days longer after having written to the mar- 
chioness, and did not leave till the morning of 
12th June, the very day that his mother and sis- 
ter were so suddenly taken ill. He passed those two 
days almost entirely in his own room. He feared 
that if he went out he might again meet Alphon- 
sus, the marchioness, or her daughters, and such a 
meeting, it is scarce necessary to observe, would be 
in no wise welcome. The questions addressed him 
were very embarrassing, and the coquettish man- 
ner in which Amelia acted slightly ruffled his tem- 
per. 

The loss of his precious watch, of which he had 
been so unceremoniously deprived, stung his soul, 
not, indeed, on account of the intrinsic value of 
the article, although that, too, was considerable, 
but on account of the memories it conjured up. 
While he would not condescend to ask for it, but 
wishing to give a lesson to the indiscreet but harm- 
less girl, he penned, in a moment of lost temper, 
the letter, already referred to ; and this act of boyish 
retaliation agonized the soul of poor Amelia. Did 
he know the unspeakable pain it caused the artless 
and gentle creature it were never written. But 
he was no prophet, and thought that under cer- 
tain circumstances a mild rebuke but amounted to 
an act of courtesy. 

The departure of his uncle from Milan, which 
he learned at the European Hotel, induced him to 
believe that his mother had changed her mind \ 
that she had instructed Count James to go 


5 14 The Hunter of the Alps. 

seek for him in Lombardy, and. that she and. Na- 
talie had returned home. But then, instead of 
going to Bergamo, ■where the G-aribaldians were 
garrisoned, why did his uncle depart so hastily for 
the Eomagna ? Had any mishap befallen his mo- 
ther or sister ? These ideas racked J ulian’s brain. 

He had already written four letters to the coun- 
tess. After having made new enquiries in all the 
city hotels, and before returning to Adrian’s villa, 
he wrote a fifth letter, wherein he told his mother 
all his adventures, giving her at the same time his 
address, and assuring her that he would return home 
as soon as his friend Maso had sufficiently recover- 
ed to bear the fatigue of the journey. Having 
felt quite assured that his mother had returned 
home, he thereto addressed his letter. His crowning 
consolation consisted in writing his mother in the 
most affectionate manner, and in giving her the 
most minute details of all his mishaps ; it was the 
only means to quiet the uneasiness and anxiety 
wherewith his soul was harrowed at thought of his 
mother and sister’s suffering. From this moment 
he scarce missed a day that he did not write home. 

My mother,” he said to himself, will be quite 
content so long as she knows I am living and 
well.” 

.Poor Julian I how egregiously you were de- 
ceived. 

Julian received on his return a highly welcome 
reception from Madame Clelia, Celsus, and Maso. 
He found his friend Maso quite convalescent ; 
he was no longer confined to his bed, but lay 


The Hunter of the Alps. 515 

stretched on a sofa beside a table covered with 
vases of delicious and fragrant flowers. It is scarce 
necessary to state that this delicate act of attention 
came from Celsus, who had taken it into his head 
to make Masoa consummate botanist. The young 
fellow was as yet pale, weak, and emaciated, but 
he grew in strength and vigor from day to day. 

^‘Why, you look much worse than Maso, Ju- 
lian ; what is the matter with you ? ” asked Clelia 
after warmly welcoming him. 

‘‘ Oh ! nothing is the matter with me ; I am 
somewhat unnerved by the sweltering heat, to be 
sure, for Milan is like an oven.” 

“ Pshaw ! we have not had any of ttat excessive 
heat yet that I so eagerly desire for my tropical 
plants and flowers,” chimed in Celsus. My dear 
boy, I wish you to come along with me and see 
some rare flowrets I have just received ; why, they 
are worth more than that battle of Magenta, about 
which every one is talking. Come and see them.” 

^‘But what about my clothes?” asked Maso, 
who had already been bored to madness on the 
botanical question ; have you brought them along 
with you ? ” 

Why, yes — a whole trunk full.” 

Let us see them.” 

Celsus remained silent, and while Maso ex- 
amined Julian’s purchases he rose and went out. 

Madame Clelia made very minute enquiries as to 
Julian’s experiences at Milan. 

He unhesitatingly told her all as far as his re- 
searches for his mother were concerned, as well as 


5i6 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


of ilie popular rcjoiciugs, the mad revelry in honor 
of the Franco Sardinians, and the two sovereigns ; 
but he took precious good care not to breathe a word 
about his meeting the Marquis Alphonsus and his 
family. He mentioned it to none save Maso, who 
laughed heartily at the way in which J ulian lost his 
watch, and condemned unequivocally the pert la- 
conicism of his letter to the marchioness. 

Two days thus passed by. 

On the evening of the ISth Adrian, who, as we 
have already observed, had been knighted, returned 
from Milan. His first act was to cordially greet 
the little Tuscan, as he familiarly called Maso, and 
presented him w'ith a pin set in diamonds and 
bearing the cross of Savoy. He also presented one 
to Julian, observing as he did so, in half-sarcastic 
tone : 

you know, my dear count, that I have 
news for you from the Eomagna which will pro- 
bably sadden you. The Austrians have evacuated 
it, and all its cities have torn down the papal ban- 
ner and flung to the breeze the flag of King Victor 
Emmanuel, whom they have proclaimed dictator. 
The cardinal legate at Bologna has left, and all the 
other delegates are on the run to Eomo, followed 
by the civil officials and troops. There is a general 
rush.” 

Why, a revolution has occurred,” cried Julian 
excitedly. 

A revolution ! not at all. Only a provisional 
change of government These people, so devoted to 
the cause of Italy, seeing themselves abandoned — ” 


The H Hitter of the A Ips, 5 j 7 

Oh ! I must start for home at any risk. No 
one knows what may occur.” 

There is not the slightest necessity. It is only 
a mere trifle. Your palace will not be fired, I as- 
sure you ; your friends will not suffer the slightest 
injury,” answered Adrian smilingly. 

‘‘You think that this is a repetition of the Ee- 
public of 1849, but it is no such thing. The present 
political change is but the pacific triumph of mode- 
ration. The demagogues, the Mazzinians, the 
sectarian Brutuses are now things of the past. 
Italy, personified in our beloved Victor Emmanuel, 
bears a royal crown. So you need not be alarmed ; 
civil order and public tranquillity will not be dis- 
turbed in the legations, and the Holy Father will 
continue to be venerated and will remain safe in 
the enjoyment of all his prerogatives.” 

‘^But who, meantime, administers the Govern- 
ment ? ” asked Julian. 

“ Men of the highest integrity and acknowledg- 
ed ability, who assumed the charge of civil af- 
fairs.” 

“ Of the highest integrity ? Do you mean to 
believe any such thing of those unredeemed ras- 
cals?” 

“ Don’t be so hasty. How can you apply such 
epithets to such superior and irreproachable char- 
acters as, for instance. Popoli and Minghetti, of 
Bologna ? ” 

‘^Superior ! irreproachable ! Do you think that 
I don’t know them ? ” 

As the discussion promised to wax warm, Maso 


5i8 The Hunter of the Alps, 

adroitly managed to effect a change of eubject. 
Julian a few moments afterwards wrote to Lis 
mother, and told her that his only reason for not 
starting home immediately was that he could not 
obtain permission to do so from Maso’s physician. 



CHAPTEK LXVIII. 


AN UNEXPECTED VISIT. 

‘^Julian, I am amazed at you ! I never before 
thought you were of such a singular disposition. 
You see that I am now well; you have' written 
home several times, and your friends know that 
you are safe ; Mr. Adrian assures us that he will 
procure passports for us at any moment, and the doc- 
tor says that I am strong enough to start for home. 
You have heard that the revolution in the Romagna 
is of the most pacific character ; yet, notwithstand- 
ing all this, you are a perpetual prey to sorrow, and 
seem to live but to suffer. Why not assume your 
wonted gayety, and cast all trouble away.” 

Oh ! you do not understand the cause of my 
distress. You do not seem to ponder on the fact 
that all my letters have remained unanswered. 
Imagine yourself in my place, and then teK me if 
this inexplicable silence of my mother, sister, and 
friends is not sufficient to cause me racking pain ? ” 
Why, as to that, I am in the very same condi- 
tion as yourself. Did you not write my father from 
Milan ? And did I not write him myself a num- 
ber of letters during ray convalescence ?” 

519 


520 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


‘‘Maso, yoiu* position is very different from 
mine. Besides, I am not near so troubled as you 
seem to think.” 

^0, I understand you perfectly well. Were it 
not for me, you would have been for the past fort- 
night at home in the midst of your friends. I can 
see the grief that consumes you. But I am now 
better, and can start at almost any moment,” 

Oh ! you could not as yet support the fatigue 
of the journey.” 

Wait for a day or two and you will be con- 
vinced that I can. I do not wish to run away 
abruptly or leave without cordially acknowledging 
the many kindnesses that have been shown me by 
this good family, who, as you are aware, treated us 
as if we were their own children. Madame Clelia, 
Celsus, and Adrian, mad-cap liberal that he is, de- 
serve our affection and regard. Adrian, despite his 
politics, has a generous heart.” 

Yes, I agree with you that kindness should be 
repaid with kindness. But, as you know, we have 
acted thus far very respectfully toward our generous 
host. For any substantial acknowledgment — well, 
we can leave that to our parents.” 

Well, I am not so sure of that. You know 
our kind host complains somewhat of the manner 
in which jou talk of the political events of the day. 
Personally he is delighted with you, but he finds 
that you are not liberal enough in your ideas, that 
you are not a patriotic Italian, and that you are too 
ardent a stickler for the Pope.” 

What ! does he think that in order to manifest 


521 


The Hunter of the Alps. 

our love for Italy we must reject our legitimate 
rulers and expel the Sovereign Pontiff ? Adrian is 
good at heart, no doubt, but he sadly lacks brains. 
If he thinks he can convert me to the political 
platform of the Carabonari, he is egregiously mis- 
taken. I look on that plague with holy horror. Do 
you know, Maso, the order of liberty that the 
foolish old Adrian professes ? To the order pro- 
fessed by cowards who, through human respect, 
proclaim themselves liberals.” 

Why, I am amazed at your language. Adrian 
a coward ! ” 

Yes, as cowardly as a rabbit. In reality — ^for 
I pumped him on this point — ^he is no more of a 
liberal than you or I am ; but he wishes to follow the 
fashion. He acts like so many ladies of the Italian 
nobility, who as far as liberalism is concerned do 
not understand the slightest thing about it, but 
who make all sorts of liberalistic grimaces, because, 
as I observed, it chances to be the fashion. Por 
these crackbrains’ it is as indispensable to inveigh 
against the temporal sovereignty of the Holy Fa- 
ther, against the clergy and religious, as it would 
be to do without health-ruining corsets and ridicu- 
lous bustles. But to return to our kind host. He 
is never done prating of a free and independent 
Italy, but when asked to define minutely what be 
means thereby he can only stare at you in silent 
ignorance. He simply repeats what others say 
and thinks as others think to escape the raillery 
and jibes of his associafes. But were the Austrians 
victorious, and should they cross the Adda, he 


522 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


would kneel down and black the boots of Marshal 
Giulay with the same craven flunkeyism he evinced 
toward Victor Emmanuel in Busca Palace.” 

It was a beautiful morning in the middle of 
June. Our two young friends were seated in the 
shade of a laurel bower looking on the broad alley 
leading to the little villa where they had been so 
kindly received and treated. The sky was bright 
and clear, and the heat intense. The boys were 
lazily reclining in the cool shade, and familiarly 
chatting. 

While Julian was engrossed in his liberal-politico 
discussion a carriage drove up and stopped at the 
end of the avenue, A gentleman holding a travel- 
ling-satchel in his hand, and accompanied by a 
small boy, got down from the carriage. On observ- 
ing them Maso stared for a moment, turned marble 
pale, and, recovering from his emotion, rushed to 
their presence and flung himself into their arms. 
Julian followed him, and on coming into their 
presence heard Maso murmur: 

Carlo, my dear Carlo !” as he kindly caressed 
the boy. 

The stranger, approaching Julian, respectfully 
dofled his hat, remarking: *^It is the Cjunt Ju- 
lian I presume I have the honor of addressing ?” 

‘^Yes, sir,” answered Julian with surprise, for 
he divined that it was Maso’s father who stood be- 
fore him. 

^^Ah ! a thousand thanks for your kind letter. 
0 Julian ! did you but know what pain your ab- 
sence has caused at home.” 


The Hunter of the Alps. 523 

Ifc were yain to attempt a description of the joy- 
ous scenes and pleasant conversation that followed 
this unexpected meeting. The letter which Julian 
addressed from Milan to Leopold, informing him 
of the illness and recovery of Maso, was handed to 
the former in Tuscany but two days after his return 
from his visit to the Countess Leonie. That letter 
restored strength and consolation to Leonora, joy to 
Madame Bianca and the entire family. Leopold 
immediately started, accompanied by his second 
son, Carlo, aged about twelve years, for Milan, and 
thence proceeded with the utmost haste to the 
villa where Maso was residing. 

Julian, prepare to set out as quick as possi- 
ble,” said Leopold after a brief conversation. Be- 
fore leaving home I conveyed word to your mother 
of my intention of coming hither.” 

‘^Certainly, as soon as I obtain my passports — 
which I cannot before to-morrow — I will be ready to 
start. So desirous am I to reach home again that 
there is scant danger of my causing any unnecessa- 
ry delay.” 



CHAPTER LXIX. 


SOLFEKIKO. 

While the circumstances just related were oc- 
curring at Adrian’s villa other events of the 
gravest character were about to take place in Lom- 
bardy. 

After the affair of Melegnano the two armies held 
Europe in suspense for a period of fifteen days. 
The Austrians, commanded by the Emperor Fran- 
cis Joseph in person, were firmly established on the 
Mincio, adjacent to the celebrated Quadrilateral, 
the Franco-Sardinians, led by the Emperor Napo- 
leon, in serried and threatening phalanx, against 
them. Arrived on the bank of the Chiese, Napo- 
leon desired to make a halt, for the double purpose 
of gi’anting his troops a period of much-needed 
rest and holding a council of war to decide what 
course of action should be adopted in that conjunc- 
ture. 

It was rumored that the Austrian emperor was 
firmly resolved to defend the Chiese at any cost. 
He had already deployed countless legions of hus- 
sars and uhlans in the vast plain of Montechiaro, 
for he desired to bring on a cavalry engagement, 
which would offer him great advantages. It is well 
524 


525 


The Hunter of the Alps, 

known that the Austrian cavalry is remarkable for 
the unity of its movements, its activity, and bra- 
very. 

But it is inexplicable why all those numerous 
and powerful squadrons of Hungarians, Bohemians, 
and Moravians suddenly recrossed the river and dis- 
appeared. Xapoleon at once determined to cross 
also immediately on their tracks and penetrate to 
the right bank of the Mincio. In truth, from the 
20th to the 23d of June almost all the allied forces 
advanced beyond the stream and encamped in 
the circumjacent valleys, at Oarpenedolo,- Castig- 
lione, and Castel-Goffredo. But they saw no sign 
of an Austrian. In vain the emperor of the French 
explored the vast plain. He instructed the aero- 
naut, Godard, whom he hurriedly brought from 
Paris, to make an ascension and explore the chain 
of hills which stretched between the Lake of Garda, 
the Mincio, and the lowlands of Medole and Castig- 
lione. Godard made his ascension, but could dis- 
cover nothing. 

Francis Joseph had divided his troops into two 
armies, under the command of Marshals Schlick and 
Wimpffen. After having taken counsel with his 
most sagacious generals, he decided to pretend to 
remain on the defensive, and even to abandon the 
right bank of the river. This he did with the de- 
sign of attracting the allies to that position. He 
would then convert his defence into an attack with 
most marvellous celerity by crossing and recrossing 
the Mincio from the 23d to the 24th, and, after hav- 
ing cut the Franco-Sardiniuns, whether on the cross- 


520 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


ing of the Chiese or the adjacent plains, would turn 
on them his entire force of two hundred thousand 
men and five hundred pieces of artillery. This would 
have succeeded, had the brave monarch advanced 
its execution by a single day. 

This is overwhelming evidence, together with the 
result of more recent investigations, how malicious- 
ly false were the rumors, so widely spread, that the 
designs of the Austrian emperor were traitorously 
revealed to the French. So far was Napoleon from 
suspecting that he would have to sustain on the 
24th the assault which in truth he did sustain that 
he issued that day usual orders for the march, pru- 
dent, it must be admitted, but in no wise different 
from those of the preceding days. He and his 
commanders were already convinced that the 
enemy, which showed no sign of life, had entirely 
evacuated the right bank of the Mincio, and that 
on that day there would at most be nothing but 
perhaps a slight skirmish between the advance 
guards. Is it likely, then, that if the emperor of 
the French knew the designs of the Austrians, he 
would not have taken the necessary precautions to 
ensure victory ^ 

Bo that as it may, however, on the morning 
of the 24th thè advance-guards of the allied ar- 
mies flung themselves on the enemy. Both were 
surprised at this sudden and unexpected meet- 
ing. The rivers Chiese and Mincio issue on the 
north, the one from Lake Isco, the other from the 
Lake of Garda, and discharge their waters into the 
Po, after having irrigated a territory of fifteen 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


527 - 

miles in breadth. The greater portion of this dis- 
trict is studded with countless hills ; the rest forms 
a vast plain. From Volta to Lonato the hills grow 
gradually smaller, though in many places they in- 
crease in height and seem to be interlaced with one 
another, skirting the plain and bearing on their 
summits a cluster of towns, villages, and hamlets 
beautifully surrounded by smiling vineyards and 
flourishing plantations. On the plain spread out as 
far as the eye can reach are fields of waving corn, 
verdant orchards, and rich, luxuriant meads. 

At the centre of this chain of hills, at the foot 
of which the smiling valley lies, the little moun- 
tain of Solferino erects its crest, which is capped 
with a village of the same name. A huge rock, in 
the form of a truncated cone, crowns it, and on its 
topmost summit haughtily stands an olden tower, 
moss-grown and gray, which is known as the 
Italian Sentinel. From this spot the eye of the 
observer takes in a sweep of horizon which is only 
bounded by the Alps and the sea. 

The houses of Solferino form a sort of amphithea- 
tre around the mountain, and its streets lead to 
the frowning fort that commands the circumjacent 
hills. Its northern wing is defended by a massive 
pile of masonry which the French name Bosquet 
des Cyprés” ; the south wing is backed by a ceme- 
tery surrounded by equally strong walls. At a 
short distance, and facing the Alpine road, stands 
the Church of Our Lady of Discovery. The most 
accessible of the roads which leads to this bastion, 
which has ever been deemed impregnable, is that 


528 The Hunter of the Alps, 

which issues from Casliglioue and leads to San 
Cassiano. Howeyer, another, though narrower, 
way exists which skirts the declivi ty of the ceme- 
tery ; a path also ascends zigzagging round the 
hills, which, serving as detached forts, defend the 
southern road. Finally, from the elevated cone 
spring out, like branches from the trunk, the 
crags of Monte Fenile, of Grole, and of Fontana, 
wliich on the west directly face Castiglione. A 
little lower down Monte Sarco is seen, and behind 
it the little hills of Cavriana. On the right, as 
you proceed toward the Lake of Garda, the eye 
meets the rocks of San Martino. The elevation 
which bears this name is a rugged little mountain, 
with vast, circuitous back, which has narrow flanks, 
offering a multitude of excavations admirably cal- 
culated to serve either for defence or attack. The 
Lugana road, which, starting from Eivoltella, cuts 
the way from Peschiera, leads to these cragged 
heights, of which the most impracticable route 
is that traversing the space between the church. 
Roccolo, and the house of Contraccania ; for the es- 
carpment is dangerously precipitous, and its brow 
is crowned with a cypress wood singularly fitted 
to afford refuge or an opportunity for ambush. 

To the left of Solferino stretches away the val- 
ley, which, in proportion as it extends to the south, 
sinks into mud and marshes, and at the foot of 
the hills where the valley begins are the great high- 
ways of Castiglione and Carpenedolo, which, passing 
by Guidizzolo and Medole, terminate at the bridge 
of Brito-on-the-Mincio. 


The Huìiter of the Alps. 529 

These two populous communes, surrounded b 
far-spreading meadows and carefully-cultivated 
fields, arc the keys of the plain which divides the 
two rivers. If the reader can conceive an imagi- 
nary quadrilateral whose extremities would be 
situate in the environs of Pozzolengo, Volta, 
Medole, and Eevoltella, he would almost be able 
to form an adequate idea of the ground whereon 
was fought the battle of the 24th of June. 

The Austrians crossed the Mincio with eight 
corps and two divisions of cavalry. The first 
army, commanded by Marshal Wimpffen, was 
composed of the respective corps of Generals 
Schwartzenberg, Schaffgottsche, Veigl, Liech- 
tenstein, and Zedwitz. In the second army-corps, 
under the command of Marshal Schlick, were the 
detachments of Generals Benedek, Stadion, Clam- 
Gal las, Zobel, and the cavalry division of General 
Mensdorf. 

The allies advanced with twenty infantry and 
four cavalry divisions. The French infantry 
were composed of the five divisions of MacMahon, 
Canrobert, JSTiel, Baraguey dTIilliers, and the di- 
vision of the Imperial Guard. The Sardinians 
formed four divisions under the command of 
Fanti, Durando, Cucchiari, and Mollard. The 
French cavalry were composed of the divisions of 
Partonneaux, Devaux, and Morris des Gardes ; the 
Sardinian cavalry formed one division. 

It is almost impossible to state accurately the 
number of soldiers engaged on both sides. Kus- 
tow, wlio has endeavored to make a fair and rea- 


530 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


sonable calculation, affirms that the Austrians who 
participated in the battle that day did not number 
less than a hundred and sixty thousand men, and 
the Franco-Piedmontese a hundred and seventy 
thousand or more. It is, however, safe to state that 
on that terrible day three hundred thousand men 
at least engaged in deadly combat, with one thou- 
sand pieces of cannon, and on a space of ground 
scarce covering thirteen miles. 

The Austrian forces, divided into two wings, 
advanced as follows : On the right toward Cas- 
tiglione, from Stiviera and Lonato, by the acclivi- 
ties and slopes which form a net from Solferino to 
the Lake of Garda; on the left toward Carpenedo- 
lo by the valley which stretches between Guidizzolo, 
and Cdstel-Goffredo. The object of the right wing 
was to attract the enemy by feigning a retreat. The 
left wing was assigned the duty of flinging them- 
selves on the right flank of the enemy and hurl- 
ing him irresistibly to the foot of the mountains. 

The allies had the chance of surprising the 
foe, who lost in an instant the best advance- 
posts which covered the centre of the field of 
operations. For, all along the line which from 
the base of Castel-Goffredo ascends to the summits 
which face Pozzolengo, the French corps struck, 
as they arrived, the Austrian forces, who, on 
account of their inferior numbers, could offer but a 
feeble resistance. 

Between eight and nine o’clock the battalions of 
Baraguey d’Hilliers made themselves masters of 
the three small mountains of Fontana, Grole, and 


The Hunter of the A ips, 531 

renile, from which they vigorously began to batter 
with rifled cannon the forts of Solferino, that stood 
directly opposite. Marshal MacMahon forced a 
passage toward San Cassiano, while General Luzy, 
of Niel’s corps, attacked Medole, where the ad- 
vanced guard of Wimpffen’s army was stationed. 
Accordingly, at the very moment when the Em- 
peror Francis Joseph was informed of the ap- 
proach of the Franco- Sardinians the latter had 
already precipitated themselves on the surrounding 
farms and massed their forces on the slopes of the 
hills which commanded the roads into the re- 
doubts. 

While these engagements were going on, the em- 
peror of the French, having hastened from Monte- 
chiaro, halted on the plaza of Castiglione, mounted 
a steeple, and looked all round him. Observing 
the countless numbers of the enemy who swarmed 
at his feet, on the summit of the hills, and de- 
scended on his right like a torrent along the slopes 
down to the valley, he trembled and grew pale. 
But immediately from the top of his observatory 
Napoleon saw and understood, with lightning-like 
conception, the terrific struggle that was about to 
take place ; he saw and understood that the enemy 
purposed to batter his right wing and envelop his 
centre. He reflected an instant, and the idea flashed 
to his mind to exert on the spot every effort against 
the enemy’s centre, to wrest from him the heights 
of Solferino and Oaviiana before the latter would 
have time to overpower his right wing, which was 
in a very perilous position between Guidizzolo and 


532 


The Hunter of il lo Alps, 


San Oassiano. The plan v^as marvellously saga- 
cious, but a moment should not be lost. The 
laurels of the day would evidently be culled by the 
side who would succeed in anticipating the other. 
If Wimpffen, with his eighty thousand men, should 
chance to defeat Kiel before Napoleon dislodged 
Stadion from the summit of Solferino, Austria 
would triumph ; but if Napoleon, before Wimpffen 
enveloped Niel, could capture with the flower of 
his forces the aforesaid height, from whose summit 
the splendid star of Magenta seemed to shine, 
France would undoubtedly be victor. 

The emperor commanded his guard to hasten 
their march and rush to affect a junction with 
Marshal MacMahon. He ordered all the rein- 
forcements possible to be sent to the support of 
Marshal Niel, and these reinforcements were to 
be detached from the corps of Marshals MacMahon 
and Canrobert. Without a moment’s delay, and 
while Auger’s batteries, sustained by Decaen’s divi- 
sion, were pouring in a raking storm of grapeshob 
in conjunction with Wimpffen, the emperor, wildly 
cheered by his troops, leaped on to the summit of 
Monte Fenile, and, heedless of the plunging tem- 
jiest of lead around him, prepared to carry Solfe- 
rino by assault and direct the battle in person. 

On his arrival the Dieu brigade had pushed well 
forward, as far as the foot of the cemetery hill. All 
at once the dazzling flush of bayonets was seen 
through the bushes and underwood that cover the 
base of the rock of Solferino. It was an Austrian 
detachment that had ambushed there with the de- 


The Hìinter of the Alps. 


533 


sign of surrounding Baraguey d’Hillier’s corps and 
separating it from MacMaKon’s. On tlie instant, 
ffapoleon brought up D’Alton’s brigade in battle 
line, and, entrusting the carrying out of the su- 
preme effort to General Forey, he flung it with 
wild impetuosity on that death-freighted cloud 
that was just about to burst. This ill-judged 
operation was disastrous in the extreme. In a 
moment the column was almost annihilated by a 
raking Are of round-shot and canister, while from 
countless muskets a perpetual sheet of flame and 
smoke leaped out fringed with a line of lead. The 
debris of the column were borne back and crushed 
like reeds in a hurricane before the dash of the 
Austrians in their mad rush to burst through and 
carry the Trench centre. 

But see ! here come on double-quick the brave 
regiments of the Imperial Guard, panting to get at 
holds with the enemy. General Maneque, at the 
head of five battalions of voltigeurs, wildly rushes 
to the support of D ’Al ton’s brigade, of which there 
are but a few tattered remnants left, and with ir- 
resistible impetuosity tumbles the enemy back to 
the foot of Mount Sanco, where a hand-to-hand 
struggle takes place, so desperate, avenging, and 
bloody, that we would shudder to attempt its de- 
scription. General Ladmirault, with three other 
columns, attacked in turn the cemetery redoubts. 

Mad attempt ! 

He tumbles to the ground wounded ; his division 
is broken like glass and put to rout by the Austrian 
brigades under Guai and Koller, who hurled it into 


534 


The Hìintcr of the Alps, 


a gorge and tore ifc to pieces under a cannon cross- 
fire from the fort and the cerne ter;y. 

It was now one o’clock in the afternoon. The 
most advantageous and formidable points of the 
Solferino position, so desperately disputed and at 
such bloody cost, were as yet in the hands of the 
Austrians. 

Six hours of battle, or rather six hours of inces- 
sant butchery in its most brutal forms, had deci- 
mated Stadion’s corps, who, no longer able to hold 
his position, was compelled to shelter his harrassed 
and battle- worn troops behind the entrenchments, 
and entrust the castle and the fort to a brigade 
that he yet held in reserve. A few battalions of 
Zobel’s corps joined it, but the reinforcement was 
not sufficient; and herein consists the crowning 
blunder of the Austrians. They should have gar- 
risoned these important positions while they yet 
had time with a sufficient number of soldiers. The 
Emperor Napoleon, on the contrary, had under 
his eye twenty thousand troops of the Imperial 
Guard and sixteen thousand men of Baraguey 
d’Hillier’s corps. Eeischach’s regiment fought 
with such terrible ferocity as to literally astound 
their enemies, and defended the points of Solferino, 
the most desperately attacked, while the debris of 
Stadion’s brigade and Zobel’s detachments made a 
desperate effort to hurl the serried and resolute 
French legions down the slopes. It was one of the 
most furious charges ever delivered or received. 
The madness and horror of that almost band-to- 
hand fight surpasses all powers of imagination. 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


535 


The village, fort, and cemetery were like three 
belching volcanoes. From the adjacent heights 
the fires of the French batteries converged on these 
three points, while in answer the Austrian artillery 
kept up its incessant thunder- roar, that seemed to 
make the air around them vibrate and the earth 
beneath them rock. 

The most disputed point was undoubtedly the 
cemetery. Five times the French dashed to its 
capture with superhuman energy ; five times were 
they sent whirling back by the impetuous onset of 
the Austrians, who themselves stood horror-stricken 
and dazed at the ghastly slaughter they had made. 
The dead, the dying, and the wounded literally 
carpeted the sward, while the blood in countless 
rivulets went gurgling down the hills like water 
after a pelting rain-storm. 

At length, despairing of being able to carry the 
cemetery by assault, the French directed their ener- 
gies against the fort, from whence, if captured, 
they could rake with their artillery that impreg- 
nable spot before which all their valor failed. It 
was the supreme effort of the day, the decisive 
hour of battle. That handful of Austrians, battle- 
worn and decimated, who had thus far sustained 
with such marked heroism so many attacks, can no 
longer defend all the heights. The French col- 
umns, in serried, massive order, advance slowly, 
calmly, with the same measured step as if on a field 
review, closing up the gaps that the grape and can- 
ister tore through them, and, with incredible con- 
tempt of death, march up to the cannon’s mouth 


536 The Ilwiter of the Alps, 

and then hurst upon the foe witli a wild hurrah. 
The cheers, the yells of rage, the shouts of defiance 
of these invincible battalions drowned the roar of 
the artillery, and must have sent a shock of 
terror through the hearts of the foe, if, indeed, 
such men could know fear. Finally, the bravo 
Colonel d’ Auvergne scrambles first up to one of 
the topmost heights, and, placing his white hand- 
kerchief on the j;)oint of his sword, waves a salute 
of triumph to the emperor. The latter returns 
the salute. It is the salute and shout of victory. 
The Austrian understands it well, but he strives in 
vain to stifle that triumphant cheer or oppose a 
successful barrier to his overpowering foe. Brigade 
succeeds brigade, charge follows charge, each more 
desperate than the other; but the Austrians are 
soon compelled to fall back to the valley facing 
Pozzolengo and Oamerlata. They are furiously 
pursued by the French, who were constrained to 
halt only by a blinding storm, of which (he inces- 
sant flash of the lightning, the crash of thunder, 
the wind, hail, and torrents of rain forced a truce 
on the victor. 

While this awful strife was raging on the left 
wing, near the centre Marshal MacMahon was vigo- 
rously engaged with the Austrian forces who 
barred the passage of San Cassiano and Oavriana, 
and with serious obstinacy threatened to hold him 
separated from Mel’s corps. He was opposed by 
Clam-Gallas, who made him pay so dearly for his 
laurels at Magenta. He led his columns to war 1 
San Cassiano, when a solid Austrian phalanx, de- 


The Hunter of the Alps. 537 

boucliing from tbe Giiiilizzolo road, startled his 
gaze. He in hurried excitement ordered twenty- 
four pieces of artillery to be placed at the em- 
bouchure of the road and crumble the enemy with 
their fire. The impassible Austrian vigorously re- 
turns the salute, and one of the bloodiest artillery 
duels ever witnessed takes place — a duel in which 
the brave and handsome General Auger had his 
arm shot off, which a few days subsequently cost 
him his life. 

Marshal Schlick’s corps put the French left wing 
in no slender peril in the plain of Medole, and 
tended directly to cut it ofi from its centre. Now, 
the distance between Marshal MacMahon and Mar- 
shal Niel was quite considerable, and neither tbe 
one nor the other had sufficient force to effect a 
junction. The two cavalry divisions of Partor- 
noaux and Hevaux, and, later on, Moris’ division, 
airhed on the nick of time. Deploying at once in 
battle order, they covered his weak fianks and 
bravely attacked Mendorf’s cavalry, who had 
plunged along to harrass the battalions on his 
right. Thus reinforced, although not to such an 
extent as to be by any means sure of victory, Mac- 
Mahon turned in the direction of San Cassiano and 
hurried forward the division of La Motte Eouge to 
effect the occupation of that position. 

The assault was so furious that shortly after 
noon the Austrians concentrated their strength and 
endeavored to rally at Mont Fontana and prevent 
the capture of Caviana, the last strongh Id of their 
centre. This breastwork of liiUs comuiandcd, 


538 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


through the heights of Cavriana, the opposite for- 
tress, and so strong a position was it, that it might 
be compared to Solferino. The Austrians, led by 
the intrepid Prince of Hesse, stood sternly in their 
tracks, and repulsed with splendid obstinacy the 
whirlwind charge the French. Indeed, not only 
did the Austrians beat back the Turcos from a re- 
doubt wherein they were firmly entrenched, but they 
were victors in a whole series of assaults, paralyzing 
every time the vigor of the foe. Had the Austrian 
centre not been already disorganized, the prince 
could have assumed the offensive and recaptured 
Cassiano. But the Imperial Guards, whose presence 
was no longer required at Solferino, were despatched 
to assist MacMahon. After a resistance as obsti- 
nate as vain, the Austrians, harrassed and attacked 
on all sides by an enemy superior in numbers, and 
torn and shattered by the artillery pouring with in- 
cessant roar round-shot and shrapnel into their 
thickest ranks, were finally obliged to retreat, figlit- 
ing as they fell back like baited lions to the last 
line of the Cavriana hills. 

From the top of these heights the Emperor 
Francis Joseph, who had with breathless excite- 
ment witnessed the marvellous heroism of his de- 
voted troops, ordered up his last reserve in the 
endeavor to oppose a final barrier to the French 
columns, that from height to height and slope to 
slope pressed on with the resistlessness of an angry 
tempest to overwhelm this, his last refuge, to save 
his centre. From early morning the emperor had 
not taken a moqKmPs repose, galloping from rank 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


539 


to rank, where the hail-storin of lead fell thickest 
and death reaped richest harvest, he was inspiring, 
encouraging, animating his soldiers, whose bravery, 
truth to tell, required no stimulus. Francis Joseph 
presented a striking contrast to those monarchs who, 
sitting snugly at home in their luxurious palaces, 
send out their serfs to slaughter and be slaughter- 
ed. But the fury of the French, who, from the 
desperate resistance offered them, had grown fero- 
cious as wounded tigers, swept everything before 
them, and their rifled cannon, whose fire their ar- 
tillerists sent to the mark with unwearied obsti- 
nacy and deadly skill, carried to such a long range 
that the Austrian reserves, though they never for a 
moment blenched, were literally torn into fragments. 
What with the demoralization occasioned by the 
defeat and irreparable overthrow of the centre, and 
tlie slaughter caused by the French rifled artillery 
before Cavriana, the emperor determined to abandon 
the position. The bugles brayed retreat, and the 
commands of Clam and Zobel retired toward 
Goeto, the thunder-storm that had swept down on 
the field so furiously favoring the design of the 
Austrian emperor. 

The deadly struggle on the centre terminated by 
the French capturing the little village of Cavriana, 
and from that moment there was not the slenderest 
doubt as to the issue of the day. Nevertheless the 
Austrians, who were completely victorious over the 
Sardinians on the right wing, and who were in no 
wise weakened on their left in the conflict with 
Niel, undertook, at the instance of the emperor, to 


540 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


test the result of another attack, and were on the 
point of turning tlie fortunes of the hour. 

On this side the French were not so strong as the 
enemy. Canrobert’s corps, which was stationed 
between Mendole and Guidizzolo, could render 
them but scant assistance, as the marshal had or- 
ders to watch an Austrian corps which was to de- 
bouch by the Mantua road. 

After having occupied Medole, Niel turned his 
march toward Guidizzolo and quickly flung his 
force against the Austrian left wing, encamped in 
the vicinity of the main road to Goeto, the key of 
the entire plain. Until three o’clock in the after- 
noon the marshal, who observed that Lis command 
was unequal to the forces of Wimpflen, concluded 
that it was better to stand on a defensive that as- 
sumed, nevertheless, the appearance of an offensive, 
and await the reinforcement he so importunately 
demanded, at one moment from Marshal Canrobert, 
at another from Marshal MaeMahon. The Aus- 
trians, who had not as yet received orders to fling 
themselves on the enemy, were satisfied with vigor- 
ously repelling his attacks. But as the line of bat- 
tle was very short, and as the contending forces 
kept up an incessant fire, it chanced that Marshal 
Niel, as well as Marshal Wimpffen, sacri deed in 
this mutual make-believe attack the flower of their 
troops. 

When the critical moment arrived to begin a 
general aggressive movement the only reserve re- 
maining to the Austrians was Sebotlendorf’s bri- 
gade, with two batteries ; tlie rest of their troops 


The Hìuiter of the Alps, 


541 


were wearied and battle-broken after a day of fu- 
rious figbt under the most untoward circumstances. 
But Marshal Nielbad just received a new body of 
reserves, who arrived at the determining moment 
to repair the serious losses he had endured. 

The impetuosity with which the Austrians dash- 
ed to the attack on the right wing of the French 
army is designated by Bazancourt as ^^mad hero- 
ism.’^ Their divisions and brigades, notwithstand- 
ing their forlorn and hopeless condition, bounded 
like hungry panthers on the foe, the while they 
were being hammered, battered, and torn to shreds 
by a hundred mitraleuses, converging on them from 
every side, and pouring into their decimated ranks 
an incessant death-tempest of grape-shot and can- 
nisi cr. It was at this trying juncture that the 
young Prince of Windshgraetz, at the head of his 
regiment, flung himself madly on the enemy’s 
squares, and in the midst of the furious struggle 
tumbled to t’he ground, pierced by two bullets. 
But the young hero did not lose his courage with 
his blood ; ordering that he should be carried for- 
ward on the shoulders of his soldiers, he continued 
to animate his men, waving them on with his wav- 
ing sword, while his life-blood ebbed away, stimu- 
lating them to burst those, barriers of Are and steel, 
and break down that human wall of brass. Ilis 
example so flred his men that they sprang with a 
yell of rage and vengeance on the bayonets of the 
foe, and had it not been for the timely arrival of 
three French battalions, who overpowered this he- 
roic regiment, that regiment would have tarn 


542 The Hunter of the Alps, 

through the heart of the enemy like a whirlwind 
through a forest. 

Observing that the rapid and continual advance 
of the French troops rendered it impossible for 
Wimpffen to achieve definitive triumph, the Aus- 
trian emperor ordered him to retreat, in keeping 
close, however, to the Mincio. The marshal exe- 
cuted this order in the midst of the terrible tem- 
pest, which Heaven in its mercy seemed to have 
unchained to put a stop to such ghastly carnage. 

The Austrian right wing still remained, which, 
under the command of Benedek, crossed swords 
with the Sardinians among the rocks of San Mar- 
tino. But here victory smiled on the former up 
to the moment when the emperor ordered the 
general to fall hack, notwithstanding his advan- 
tages, lest he should expose his command to be sur- 
rounded by the enemy. 

But before abandoning the positions wherein ho 
had so forcibly recalled to the minds of the Sar- 
dinians that he still was the terrible Benedek of 
Custoza and Mortare, he once more scattered the 
soldiers of Victor Emmanuel, hurling them before 
him like autumn leaves in a gale. He then, in 
obedience to the emperor’s command, retreated, 
following the course of the river, grumbling and 
growling and gnashing his teeth. 

From six o’clock to nine o’clock in the evening 
the easy conquest of the hills, villages, and fields 
that the Austrians had voluii'.arily evacuated con- 
stituted the achievements of the Piedmontese, a 
deed which they pompously call the great victory 


The Hunter of the Alps. 543 

of San Martino/’ which they payed for, however, 
with the loss of four thousand two hundred and 
sixty-three men killed and wounded, and twelve 
hundred and sixty-eight made prisoners. The 

victorious ” Sardinians took only a handful of 
soldiers from the enemy ; at least we cannot find 
any mention of more in the official report. 

The retreat of the Austrians toward the Mincio, 
and their passage to the other side of the river, 
ended Ihe-hloody struggle, which wdll he one of the 
most memorable of modern times, on account of the 
fearful losses it occasioned. According to the 
official reports of both belligerents, the Austrians 
had thirteen thousand men killed and wounded, 
and the Franeo-Sardinians about eighteen thou- 
sand — that is, thirty-one thousand men who, in the 
brief space of fourteen hours, were either wounded 
or slain. 

Indeed, it could not be otherwise, if we consider 
the superhuman valor evinced on both sides. The 
eagle of France, victor at Solferino, bore away 
another triumph, the result of the heroism and 
genius of the greatest military power the civilized 
world ever saw. 



x:» 



CHAPTER LAX. 

THE KETUUK. 

Whek Julian took leave of his kind hosts the 
hearts of both the one and the other were deluged 
with sorrow. Adrian, who found fault with him 
only on account of his indifference to liberalism, 
warmly shook hands with him on his departure. 
His wife, the generous Clelia, wept as he took 
leave, and almost seemed to think that she had 
lost once more her darling and never-to-be-forgotten 
son. Celsus, with his distinguishing botanical en- 
thusiasm, overwhelmed him with kindness, while 
he reproached him for having concealed for such a 
long time his real name. The courtesies of Leo- 
pold, who wished to furnish him with all the money 
he required, and indeed much more, the parting 
caresses, demands, and promises of Maso, the fare- 
wells, the reciprocal expressions of thanks, and the 
sorrow evinced at his departure — all touched in- 
tensely the tender heart of Julian. Maso accom- 
panied him to the carriage-door, and, with iiis 
eyes welling over with tears, he said : 

Good-by, Julian ! I need say no more to you, 
as we shall soon meet again. After spending a 
few days at home I will visit you. Good speed ! 

544 


The Ihmter of the Alps. 545 

and do not forget to remember me to your kind 
mother and amiable sister.” 

Julian, overcome by emotion, could scarce an- 
swer, and sobbed like a child. He warmly shook 
hands with Mr. Adrian and Leopold, kissed the 
mischievous little Carlo, expressed his unbounded 
thanks toward Madame Clelia, and then, brushing 
a tear from his eye, leaped into the carriage and 
drove off. 

During the journey he believed himself the vic- 
tim of a deceptive dream, and could scarce imagine 
that he was en route for his own home. He could 
hardly conceive whether or not the three months 
he had passed separated from his family, and so 
many troubles and perils, were a dream or a reality. 

During my entire journey,” he wrote in his 
diary, I did not breathe a word to any one, save 
my dear friend Maso. I did not, indeed, think of 
talking. I was absorbed in the past and much 
more in the future. In fact, the past almost up- 
turned my mind, and at times I could scarce help 
asking myself the question : ^ Am I awake or 
dreaming ? ’ The future filled my soul with 
anxiety. The importunities of Mr. Leopold, who 
was ever striving to hasten my departure, clung in 
my mind, and filled it with gloomy forebodings. 
What sombre thoughts flashed through my brain 
during these three days’ journey ! I had brought 
along with me to read ^ Marco Visconti dc Grossi,’ 
that I had bought in a book-store at Milan. A 
hundred times I tried to read it, and as often did 
not go through half a dozen lines till I had to close 


54^ The Hunter of the Alps, 

the book and again relapse into a melancholy re- 
verie. None other than myself can conceive the 
intensity of my suffering.” 

Towards evening, on the 24th of June, Julian’s 
carriage had arrived about a mile from the city 
which was the object of all his desires. Fearing 
to enter before nightfall, he alighted and walked 
on foot, telling the driver to bring him his travel- 
ling-trunk the following day. He proceeded slow- 
ly and diffidently to the city gate. Though the 
weather was pleasant and the road excellent, it 
chanced that he met but few persons. At a cer- 
tain distance, however, he observed coming toward 
him a carriage, the horses of which he at once 
conceived were those of the countess, his mother. 

He remained for a moment on the summit of ex- 
citement. There was no longer any doubt ; he re- 
recognized Blaisius, the coachman. He trembled 
a moment ; his heart almost forgot to beat ; he pulled 
down his hat to conceal his face, and walked hastily 
past by the side-path that edged the road. The 
carriage passed on; but Julian, who flung a sly 
glance as it dashed by, remarked inside a rather 
youngish woman clad in mourning, and a little 
girl. He was accordingly filled with the most 
painful anxiety. He trembled from head to foot. 

Ho entered the city at the moment they were 
lighting the lamps. He hastened hurriedly toward 
his own home, while his heart was racked at the 
thought of hearing of some domestic mishap. The 
lady dressed in black whom he saw in his mother’s 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


547 


carriage filled his soul with awe ; and as to the 
young lady therein, he could form no conception as 
to who she was. lie did not recognize in the carriage 
either his mother or his sister. The young lady, 
however, puzzled him most ; he did not know who 
she was or why she was there. 

In the midst of his perplexity, and in his darkest 
gropings, Julian arrived, listlessly and scarce know- 
ing where he was going, at the end of the street 
which debouched on the market-place. 

He immediately halted, looked at his old resi- 
dence, and tremblingly hesitated. He could dis- 
cern no light in the hotel from cellar to attic ; a 
new wing that was being built shut off the light 
from his eyes. 

“I wonder if they are in the country,’’ he mur- 
mured to himself. 

While meditating in this state of uncertainty, 
not knowing what next move to make, the carriage 
he had met outside the city dashed by. The young 
girl was not in it, and the darkness of the night 
did not permit him to recognize the others. He 
saw the carriage pass through the entrance-gate. 

‘‘They are not in the country, then,” he mut- 
tered. 

He therefore thought that the best part he could 
choose would be to get some intimate friend who 
would break the ice for him — who would introduce 
him to his beloved mother, whom he yearned to 
sec, and yet whom he feared to meet. Did he only 
know it, little had poor Julian to fear from that 


548 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


licurt-broken iiiollitr. The only puiiislimenfc that 
a wailed him was a kiss and an embrace. When he 
arrived at the peristyle his heart failed him ; he 
could not muster up courage enough to go in ; he 
shrunk from the idea of meeting his mother, whose 
heart he had so intensely pained. 

The thought occurred to his mind that he had 
better go and have his Aunt Olympia intercede for 
him before going into the presence of his mother, 
and yet every moment was an age till he saw that 
mother. He accordingly wended his way to the 
residence of Count James ; but on the road he 
changed his mind again, and directed his steps to 
the dwelling of his old tutor, Don Egidio. On 
coming to the door he stood for a moment, and 
then, summoning up courage, he gently rapped. 
He awaited the answer, pale as death. 

The door was immediately opened. Julian in an 
instant found himself in the presence of his dear 
old teacher, and the hearty welcome he received it 
is not for us to attempt to describe. 

After getting over the first paroxysm of emotion, 
and brushing away the tears that blinded him, his 
first exclamation was : 

My mother ! my sister ! I want to see them !” 

The good old man, Don Egidio, was himself over- 
whelmed with emotion. This Julian at once ob- 
served. He quickly asked : 

“Why, what is the matter with you, good fa- 
ther ? Has any untow'ard circumstance occurred ? ” 

“ What is that you say ? ” observed the canon, 
vainly endeavoring to control his emotion. 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


549 


‘•Oh! I need say no more/’ murmured Julian 
as he buried his face in his hands ; “I have broken 
the hearts of my dear mother and sister, and peace 
of mind can ne^er visit me again.” 




CHAPTER LXXI. 

COMIKG HOME. 

‘‘ Oh ! pshaw ! my child, you are losing your 
senses. They are all as well as ever at home. Come 
along with me and see them ; I shall go at any 
moment you desire. You will then know if I am 
in the slightest degree exaggerating.’’ These words, 
addressed to Julian by Bon Egidio, gave him cour- 
age at once. Ho arose, and, looking at the 
canon with but the faintest vestige of doubt, ex- 
claimed : 

Ah ! do not deceive me. Tell me truly if my 
mother is still living.” 

“ Yes, my boy ; she and your sister are in the 
best of health ; you know I would not deceive 
you.” 

‘‘ All right, then !” exclaimed Julian. ‘‘ Let us 
go immediately and see them. But are you sure 
that no mishap has occurred ? ” 

tell you once more that all things are right.” 

“ But I am somewhat doubtful,” answered Ju- 
lian, as he stared fixedly at the canon, while the 
latter looked at him with a calm and half-stern 
air. There are, if I mistake not, strangers at 
550 



551 


The Hunter of the Alps, 

home. On coming into town I met my mother's 
carriage twice, and observed within a young lady 
clad in mourning. Who is she ? Why n ^t tell 
me ?” 

Can you guess,” observed Don Egidio, '‘who 
was the young lady in mourning ? AVhat if you 
found out that she is an ambassadress sent by your- 
self ? ” 

“ Why, I guess you are joking.” 

" Indeed, I am not ; I am speaking seriously. 
Come on, I will tell you eyerything on the way. 
You must, howeyer, do everything I tell you. For 
this evening you must just do as I bid you and ask 
no questions. Do you know why I ask you to do 
so ? Well, just because I fear your unexpected ap- 
pearance would overcome and prostrate your mo- 
ther and sister.” 

" Oh ! do not be in the least afraid. But who is 
the young girl that I saw in the carriage ? To me 
she is a perfect stranger.” 

" Stranger ? why, your remark is a subject for 
inextinguishable laughter. You know her much 
better than I do. However, let us start, and kill 
no more time.” 

And suiting the action to the word, he seized 
his hat in a hurried flutter and started out with 
Julian. 

"I know her,” muttered Julian to himself as he 
descended the stairs, "and I have sent her in the 
quality of an ambassadress ! I think the canon 
must imagine that I have lost my senses.” 

The God of mercy, whose eye ever watcheth over 


552 The Hunter of the Alps. 

the widow and the orphan, vouchsafed, at the mo- 
ment when their tribulations were at the highest, a 
restoring dew to fall on the hearts of the afidicted 
pair and gradually prepared them to witness their 
bitterness of soul changed into unspeakable joy. 

The reader will remember that we left Leonie 
and Natalie ill and melancholy in their apart- 
ments in the hotel. On the following morning all 
their trouble had disappeared ; they seemed to be 
endowed with a new life. The countess no longer 
feared for the death of her son ; a secret voice, a 
mysterious impulse, seemed to inform her of his 
safety. She did nothing now but pray for his 
speedy return. 

This unexpected change was a great comfort to 
Natalie, who, always persuaded that Julian was a 
prisoner at Verona, endeavored to regain her for- 
mer influence over her mother. Aided by Aunt 
Olympia, the Count James, and Achilles, she final- 
ly induced her mother to put faith in the belief 
she herself held. She thought, however, that 
Julian was much safer in the hands of the Austri- 
ans than in the Garibaldian ranks. 

On Thursday, June 16 , Achilles was to return, 
home under the protection of Count James. He 
had neither the time nor the courage to start 
earlier. Everything was ready, and the boy, ac- 
companied by Count James, had entered the ap- 
artments of the countess about four o’clock in the 
afternoon, to take leave of the ladies, when all at 
once a servant announced that the Marquis Al- 
phonsus, the marchioness, his wife, and several 


The Hunter of the Alps, 553 

other persons were coming up-stairs. This an- 
nouncement was to all like an electric shock. The 
Count James immediately rushed to the door; the 
Countess Leonie rose and proceeded to meet and 
welcome the 'sdsitors ; Natalie followed, and 
Achilles, pale as marble, accompanied them. 

It were impossible to describe the scene that fol- 
lowed. The Marchioness Helena flung herself im- 
petuously into the arms of her son, and a perfect 
struggle ensued between the father and two sis- 
ters to flrst embrace him. Overpowered by this 
touching scene, Leonie envied the Countess Helena 
her great joy, and tearfully hoped that she herself 
would ere long participate in a similar scene in 
clasping Julian to her bosom. 

“ What about Julian ?” demanded the marquis 
as soon as the flrst paroxysm of excitement had 
subsided. 

Has he not returned as yet ? ” asked the Coun- 
tess Helena. 

Where in the world is your brother all this 
time ? ” eagerly enquired Amelia, staring into the 
face of Natalie. 

The Countess Leonie and her daughter sought 
to conceal their trouble ; but when they discovered 
that the family of Count Alphonsus had met 
Julian at Milan their surprise and pleasure knew 
no bounds. The countess for the moment thought 
tliat they wished to impose on her, and she accord- 
ingly changed the topic of conversation, the more 
so as it stung her to the soul to bo compelled to 
confess that her only boy had joined the Garibaldi- 


554 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


an ranks. But seeing that the affair was a fact, 
the countess deluged them with questions ; every- 
one spoke at the same time, and no one could ex- 
l^ect an answer. Leonie was literally crazy with ex- 
citement. She could speak of nothing, think of 
nothing, except Julian. And Natalie, with her 
peevish, girlish impatience, was almost as bad. 
The minds of both were simply absorbed in 
Julian’s return. 

But how does that happen ?” Leonie repeated. 

Julian all alone at Milan ? He is not a prisoner, 
then ? And dressed up in citizen's clothes ? And 
staying with a distinguished friend ? Is it possi- 
ble ? I can scarcely comprehend it ; it is almost 
incredible. Julian no longer a soldier 1” But 
when the countess was shown Julian’s watch, which 
Amelia had taken and kept when she met him at 
the European Hotel, the joy of Leonie was bound- 
less. She asked in anxious eagerness to see the 
note which Julian addressed to the marchioness. 
This proposal was of course a dagger in the heart 
of poor Amelia. Stealing up to her mother’s 
side, she begged in the most pitiful accents not to 
let the note be seen. 

The Marchioness Helena, out of consideration for 
her daughter, sought a pretext for its concealment, 
but Alphonsus, who was somewhat galled at her 
girlish levity, abruptly exclaimed : 

Yes, show the countess the note. Amelia, 
Achilles, and Marie ; you will be pleased to retire. 
Countess, Natalie, with your good pleasure, may 


555 


TJie Hunter of the Alps. 

also retire, I shall submit the note to you, and 
afterwards explain it.’’ 

Amelia re-entered the room in a moment, and in 
tears seated lierself between the countess and her 
father. Leonie, more and more surprised, asked 
■what all the trouble signified. 

shall tell you,” answered Helena. 

And in the most adroit and delicate manner the 
marchioness narrated as briefiy as possible all the 
circumstances that had occurred at the European 
hotel. After having heard all and glanced her eye 
over the note, the countess turned toward Amelia, 
who was standing beside her mother. She smiled 
amiably as she looked at her, asked her in the 
gentlest terms to he seated ; then, sending out for 
Hatalio, she explained the entire affair as she 
showed her her brother’s note. A long conversa- 
tion was forthwith begun, which ended only with 
midnight. From that hour the soul of Leonie 
was lit up with hope. Every cloud of sorrow had 
fled. 

It is unnecessary for us here to expatiate on the 
manner whereby the marquis was informed of the 
discovery and escape of his son. The Count 
James had written him from Milan. The servitor 
opened the letters, which he was accustomed to 
from privilege ; he then hastened to despatch a 
telegram to the marquis, who immediately left 
Milan, and arrived on the day we speak of at the 
residence of Count James. He did not doubt but 
that his arrival would cause unmixed joy to both 
Count James and Leonie. He had not the slight- 


556 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


est knowledge that Julian had perpetrated such a 
whimsical escapade, or that he should find the 
countess in such a state of anxiety and mental 
anguish. 

The marquis passed three days, sometimes at the 
residence of Count James, at other times at the 
apartments of the Countess Lconie. It will readi- 
ly be conceived what a balm his visit was to the 
heart of the disconsolate countess. Alphonsus had 
the unmixed consolation of leading the countess 
into a perfectly trànquil state of mind. She re- 
quested him to allow Amelia to remain with her for 
a few days. Helena at once consented, and promised 
to return and bring her home as soon as she would 
receive intelligence of Julian’s return. It is scarce 
necessary to observe that Amelia was delighted 
with the proposal. 

But perhaps some of our readers may ask what 
became of the letters that Julian wrote to his mother. 
She never received them. Of ten or fifteen that he 
wrote not one reached her. The cause is thus ex- 
plained A member of one of the secret societies, the 
impersonation of perversity, intercepted them with 
assiduous industry. He bribed a post-office official 
to examine all letters addressed to the countess, 
and withold all that came from her son. 



CHAPTER LXXIL 

HOME AT LAST. 

It was ten o’clock in the evening when Julian 
and Don Egidio entered the gate leading to the hotel. 
As they passed the porlico Julian trembled and 
became the very impersonation of fear and shame. 
As chance would have it, Florence was the first to 
meet him. Had it not been for Don Egidio, the 
good man, in the excess of his rapturous joy, 
would have put the house topsy-turv3\ The canon 
knew that, for the time being, ho should conceal 
with scrupulous care Julian’s arrival from all per- 
sons occupying the same apartment as the countess. 
After liaving requested Julian to remain in an 
adjoining room, and to stay there till called, Don 
Egidio entered Leonie’s chamber, where she was 
seated in an easy chair, surrounded by her daugh- 
ter, Amelia, her sister Olympia, and a few friends, 
who kept up a conversation neither interesting nor 
animated. The good priest deemed it best to omit 
all preliminaries, and exclaimed : 

“ Countess, I bring you good news !” 

‘‘Ob ! oh ! ” rang around the room, while Natalie 
ran to take the good canon’s hat and cane. 

“ What is the good news you biing me ? ” asked 
557 


558 


The Hunter of the Alps, 


the countess eagerly, in a tone of mingled noncha- 
lance and agitation. 

Julian is on his way home ; he will, in all like- 
lihood, arrive to-morrow.” 

‘^Heaven be praised ! ” cried the mother, as she 
stared at the canon with excited gaze. 

^‘This time it is a true fact. I tell you, Ju- 
lian — ” 

“ Will he come to-day ? ” interrupted Natalie, 
pale as a lily. ‘‘Don Egidio has a certain air 
which — ” 

“ Softly, my dear,” answered the good canon ; 
“give me leave to speak.” 

“ Continue,” exclaimed Leonie excitedly ; “ tell 
me where is my son ? ” 

“You know,” he answered quite composedly, 
“ that I am not in the habit of uttering one sen- 
tence before finishing another. You will, then, I 
trust, listen to me. What I propose telling you is 
but the sterling truth.” 

All then held their breath and listened to what 
the good man had to say. 

“An hour ago,” he remarked, “a gentleman 
from Milan came into my presence and surprised 
me by telling me the best news as regards Julian.” 

“ Heaven be praised I ” exclaimed Leonie with 
vivacity. “But who is this person ?” 

“ Grive me time to tell you, countess.” 

“Ohi do not repeat the scene that occurred on 
Holy Saturday, when you told us that Julian had 
joined the G-aribaldians,” broke in Natalie. “ Why 
always bring us unwelcome news ? ” 


The Hunter of the Alps. 559 

Do you wisli to hear me through, or do you 
not ?” 

‘‘ Yes, certainly, go on ; and you keep silent,” 
exclaimed Olympia, turning toward Natalie. 

Well, from this friend I learned, and he is a 
good authority,” continued the canon — learned 
that after the battle of Varese, while on the march 
for Como — ” 

^‘Who ?” impatiently asked Natalie. 

Oh ! have patience. I mean Julian.” 

‘‘Well, go on.” 

“ While on the march to Como he remained for 
a time in a peasant’s cabin, for his friend Maso was 
in an almost dying condition.” 

“ Poor Leopold ! ” 

“ Oh ! that amounts to nothing. On the follow- 
ing morning a gentleman came to find the youths 
to bring them to his country home, where Julian 
put aside his military uniform. While his com- 
rade was being cared for he went to Milan v/ith the 
gentleman who had received them and treated 
them with such marked kindness, and thus it 
chanced that he met with the Marquis Alphonsus 
and his family in that city.” 

“ Do you see ? ” exclaimed Amelia, as she stared 
at the Countess Leonie. 

The latter made no answer, but, in breathless 
eagerness, remained silent. 

“ And is Maso well again ? ” asked Natalie. 

“Yes, thank God ! and Mr. Leopold has lately 
seen him. Julian has started for home on the 21st, 
and the gentleman who brought me the news tra- 


560 The Hunter of the Alps. 

veiled with him to Modena ; so that you see he 
will arrive home soon, perhaps to-night.” 

What is that you say ? ” broke in the countess, 
pale with excitement. Who is the person you 
speak of ? Can I see him ? Can you not induce 
him to come here ? ” 

“ Certainly, countess ; he — But what time is 
it, please ? ” 

A quarter past ten,” answered Olympia. 

Well, at a quarter to eleven the gentleman in 
question will see you.” 

And he parted with Julian at Modena ? ” 
eagerly asked Amelia. 

‘^'No, but he accompanied to Modena — But 
wait till you see the gentleman himself ; he will be 
here in a very' short time, and he will explain all.” 
• ‘‘0 mamma! if Julian should come home to- 
night, would not you and I be glad ? I will send 
Pietro to the station immediately, and tell him not 
to come back without Julian.” 

And as she spoke Natalie ran toward the door. 

Wait for a moment, miss ; I have a word or 
two more to say to you,” cried the canon excitedly. 

But she paid no attention ; she rushed forward, 
followed by Amelia. The sudden exit of the two 
girls upset all the plans of Don Egidio. He im- 
mediately arose to call them back, but scarce had 
he placed his hand on the door-knob than he heard 
a cry of surprise. It was uttered by Natalie, into 
whose arms Julian flung himself unexpectedly as 
she entered the room, exclaiming in broken ac- 
■u?nts: 


The Hiuiter of the Alps. 561 

My dear Natalie, you see I Lave conic home 
again.” 

It is ali oYer now,” murmured the good priest ; 
and, turning toward the countess, who stood by, 
pale with amazement, he said in gentle tone : 

‘‘Come on, madame, to the next room, and 
suppress your distressing agitation ; Julian is here 
at last.” 

At mention of these words she uttered a cry of 
surprise, and exclaimed : 

“ Oh ! heaven be praised.” 

She sank, overcome by emotion, on the sofa. 
The rest of the scene it is unnecessary for us to de- 
scribe. A moment afterward Julian entered her 
apartment accompanied by his sister. 

On seeing her he smilingly remarked : 

“\Yell, mamma, you see I have come back to 
you again,” and, going over to her, he kissed her 
with vehement tenderness. Those only who have 
read of the pain and anguish of the. good lady can 
conceive her happiness. 

Julian has written an account of the tender man- 
ner he was received by his mother. He says : 

“ All in the room withdrew except my aunt, 
Natalie, and the canon, Don Egidio. For a time 
my mother was so prostrated by mental agitation, 
consequent on my return, that she could scarce 
speak a word. She could but press me to her 
bosom and kiss me. She scrutinized me as if she 
doubted my identity. She found me wonderfully 
changed. It could not be otherwise, for that eve- 
ning I was the victim of fear, almost broken down 


562 The Hu 7 iter of the Alps, 

•with dread at the idea of meeting my mother after 
having caused her so much pain. , She finally had 
me sit down to supper, and seemed to take a singu- 
lar delight in serving me with her own hands. I 
told her I was wearied, and wished to retire to 
rest ; she consented as soon as I asked her, giving 
me, as I left, that sweetest of all things — a mother’s 
kiss. It was the first I had gotten from her in 
eight months. I slept soundly enough, indeed, 
hut I was soon awakened, and observed my mother 
bent over me, looking, at me as if she had never 
seen me before. I asked her to go and snatch an 
hour of repose, but she told me her only repose was 
to remain with me, and, accordingly, seating herself 
beside my pillow, she remained there, I believe, 
nearly all night. 

This passion to have me ever beside her, with- 
out allowing me to separate myself from her for 
an instant, lasted for a whole week. During that 
period I could not spend an hour apart from her 
and my sister. Each of them seemed to be jealous of 
my affection. My mother lavished on mo every sort 
of kindness, and literally overwhelmed me with 
caresses. Never till then did I conceive how much 
she loved me, or the intensity of my guilt in act- 
ing toward her as I did. It was the first time I 
adequately appreciated the wealth of love that ani- 
mates and informs a mother’s heart. From that 
moment I understood that unspeakable love a 
mother alone can feel, and why our Divine Ke- 
deemer, in his human nature, chose a mother to 
love and cherish him !” 


CHAPTER LXXIII. 


TWO WEDDINGS. 

The yilla of Countess Leonio on the 27th of 
July, 1859, was full of life and animation* It 
combined the cultivation of a private garden with 
the crowded animation of a public promenade. 
Here a young mother with an infant at her breast 
was seated beneath the clustering boughs of a rose- 
bearing laurel, and there a fine child in a go-cart 
was bounding, exulting, and rejoicing. Two little 
boys in the laurel avenue at the left were wonder- 
fully interested in the gambols of a Courland dog. 
A little farther on two boys of larger growth were 
busily beating the branches with a rod, and thus 
forcing the chesnuts to fall in showers on the 
ground. Three gentlemen at the right were walk- 
ing side by side, gravely engaged in serious conver- 
sation. In a green and odoriferous bower a cluster 
of ladies were seated, talking and laughing merrily 
together. A little farther on four fine young men 
were joking and laughing with a hilarity, an ear- 
nestness, and vivacity which evinced delight, and 
was absolutely contagious. 

We are more or less acquainted, dear reader, 
with all these people. Tiiey consist of the families 
0G§ 



564 


The Hunter of the Alps. 


of Count James, the Marquis Alphonsus, and Mr. 
Leopold, who have come, men, womqn, girls, and 
boys, to visit the countess, and congratulate her on 
the hapj)y return of Julian. They selected the an- 
niversary of her daughter’s fete, which was piously 
celebrated in the chapel of the villa, a chapel con- 
secrated to the martyr, &t. Natalia, the ancient 
patron of the family. They had all heard Mass in 
the morning, which was celebrated by Don Egidio, 
and received the sacrament at his hands to thank 
our Saviour for all his benefits. Abundant tears of 
tender piety were shed by these three mothers at 
the foot of the altar, from which the pure and liv- 
ing waters of ineffable consolation seemed to gush 
upon their souls. 

After breakfast the joyous party dispersed 
and spread themselves in hilarious groups through 
the delightful villa. The fathers, meantime, 
had to consider a domestic ceremony which was 
destined to be the source of new and greater joys ; 
we mean the marriage of Julian with the eldest 
daughter of Marquis Alphonsus, and of Maso 
with the sister of Julian. Thes^ marriages had 
been fixed and determined on during the preceding 
thirty days. 

The reader is not to suppose that an affair so im- 
portant was concluded without encountering à 
crowd of difficulties. In the first place, the wife 
whom his mother had selected for Julian seemed 
distasteful to him on account of certain lamentable 
levities which had^f'^'^cked him at Milan. But the 
countess, who earm nged to see them wedded. 


The Himter of the Alps. 565 

and who held tlie heart of her son in her hand, 
gradually operated on his mind and slowly dis- 
pelled his dislike. She was aided in these efforts by 
Amelia herself, who apologized for her conduct, and 
who, instructed by experience, assumed as modesta 
bearing as if she were a Roman matron of the days 
of Cincinnatus. 

On the other hand, Julian’s proposition with re- 
lation to his sister made the countess hesitate. Sue 
was pestered by perplexities of the most opposite 
nature. The Marquis Alphonsus might be said to 
have pledged his word for Achilles, yet the coun- 
tess shuddered at the thought of compromising her- 
self. She clung to every imaginable pretext to es- 
cape the solicitations of her son. But the arrival of 
Maso, who came ten days before his mother and the 
children, removed every difficulty. She was so 
pleased with his appearance, he was so winning 
and amiable, that she was quite charmed with Maso. 
Having been informed as to the extent of the for- 
tune which he was to receive from his father and 
grandmother, the countess exclaimed : ‘^My 
daughter shall be free in her choice of a husband.” 
We need hardly say that the young lady preferred 
Julian’s friend to Achilles. The marquis did not 
find much to complain of. He supported this tri- 
fling contradiction with patience, being appeased 
by Count James, who said to him very seriously : 

“ Before three years are ended you shall be at 
home with my Christine ; believe me, she is quite as 
good as Natalie. ” 

Alphonsus smiled and d satisfied. The 


566 


The Hunter of the Alps, 

gayety of the company at the dinner is beyond 
our p^ivers of description. They spoke on all 
topics and every subject. They laughed gayly and 
gracefully at the three G-aribaldians, who occupied 
places of honor as the kings ’of the festival. They 
were a select assembly of the devoted partisans of 
the Sovereign Pontiff, attached from principle 
rather than interest to the legitimate princes of 
Italy, and consequently hostile to the clandestine 
intrigues by which Piedmont managed to annex 
and incorporate the duchies of Modena, of Parma, 
Tuscany, and the Komagnas. We may easily ima- 
gine how outspoken and uncompromising they 
were. They called a spade a spade, and stoutly 
asserted with Hamlet : 

“ There’s not a rogue in Denmark 
But what’s an arrant knave. ” 

The peace then recently established by the empe- 
rors of France and Austria at Villafranca furnished 
our conversationalists with ample matter for dis- 
cussion, criticism, and debate. 

To conclude, the two couples are still living in 
friendship, harmony, social intercourse, and domes- 
tic peace. They are the envy of all the married 
people who know them. . They constitute the hap- 
piness of the Countess Leonie, who is delighted 
with a cherub boy whom they have added to the 
list of her acquaintances. Whenever she alludes 
to the checkered adventures of Julian she is wont 
to exclaim, in a tone of indescribable tenderness : 

I fancy, Julian, that lam in a dream.” 


THE EI^D. 













> 



